


Quantum Satis [CC Book 1]

by The_Reinhardt



Series: Cosmic Collapse [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog (Comics), Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Friendship, Humor, Multi, Multiverse, Post-Canon, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 100,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Reinhardt/pseuds/The_Reinhardt
Summary: Following the events of Forces, the worlds of Beryllia (games canon) and Mobius (pre-reboot Archie) collide. Sonic the Hedgehog, Sally Acorn, and a wide cast of supporting characters are left to pick up the pieces.Prologue - Twin Princesses - Sally and Blaze trek across Green Hill Zone to reach the Resistance. [10 chapters]Part 1 - Hunting the Hero - Sonic and Mina travel the world on a quest of self-discovery; Sally, Tails, and Blaze journey into the desert. [17 chapters]Part 2 - The Quest for Chaos - Sonic heads for Earth to compete in the EX2 World Grand Prix; Sally searches the jungle for Commander Amy Rose. [3 chapters, IN PROGRESS]Part 3 -Part 4 -Epilogue -While it is recommended you read the Parts sequentially, you can jump in at any Part if you see characters you prefer, as they are separate arcs. Parts are marked in the chapter index inside.-- Hiatus resumed for another 2 months. --





	1. Reciprocity (Prologue - Twin Princesses)

#  Prologue: Twin Princesses

##  1 – Reciprocity

Why do we create stories?

As an expression of the self. As a conference of ideas or beliefs. As a demonstration of mastery, or an effort towards attaining it. These are acceptable answers. Palatable. They allay certain insecurities itching at the underside of our minds. Why am I reading this? Why am I writing this? What’s the point?

What’s the point?

A loaded question. It presupposes that there is a point: a purpose to creation, a meaning behind the black marks scratched out on the paper or the technicolor smears hanging up on the wall. This is fundamentally untrue. We create only to feel something, to experience a white flash of pleasure against the monotonous blue-gray sludge of the day-to-day.

How can you say that?

Now, an outcry. Teetering back from uncertainty the opposition rallies: they claim that to strike out intent and meaning is to excise art’s very soul. To describe us as beasts propelled forward only by the promise of entertainment is derisive. There must be something more behind creation: Platonic certainties, convictions of the self, that carry our work on through history.

Right?

It’s true that there is something greater to stories. But it could hardly be described as the intent of the writer or the reader. The motives behind every intellectual product are reductive to a desire for entertainment. Impulse. Chemicals. And so the greater element of creation lies not _behind_ it, but after. After, a greater machine looms over us all like a vast invisible clock, barrels and dials and escape wheels in perpetual whir, imperceptibly adjudicating the intricacies of _art_.

The work authors its own dictum. Writers and readers are merely temporary vessels: the ghostly clock of a story, properly recorded and preserved, could spin on indefinitely without us to observe. And though it would seem to our sheltered eyes that a story sealed is a story concluded, this is not always the case. Just as we are never entitled to knowledge of the ghost-clock’s machinations, or of which among us may yet become its pawns, at times we may be surprised to learn that the story we thought finished is far from over.

Thus a quirk of fate, or a certain modicum of destiny, carried a streak of white light across the blue expanse of the Beryllian sky. A shooting star at midday. It pierced the round yolk of the sun and reemerged like an oiled needle; and reaching the lower sky it dragged behind it a lazy, milky trail of curling clouds. Then it impacted the soil, with a solemn resounding note – as though someone had leaned on the leftmost key of a church organ. A scorching wind rushed from the fresh crater, blowing back nearby trees with enough force to peel up the freshest inch of bark. An unquiet electricity trickled along the singed grass and floated up into the air.

In the eye of the crater was a body. Brown fur, blue jacket, blue boots, red hair. She convulsed, coughing, swathed in the steam pluming up from the riven dirt. She clutched a small gray case close to her chest – desperately close, as though it were more fragile than its bulky plastic build would suggest.

When the worst of the smoke had cleared, she dragged herself from the crater by the elbows, gasping down clear air. She pried the gray case open, revealing a shimmering green panel of glass, and set it down upright on the soft moss-bed of a fallen log.

“Nicole?” She asked, sputtering out another cough. She anxiously rapped the inner surface of the case, depressing a button into its shallow with the tip of her finger. “Nicole?”

The green screen flashed to life with the image of a brown lynx, with dark markings beneath her eyes and over the bridge of her nose. Her face was taut with focus. A tinny voice rang out from the handheld screen: “I’m here, Princess. Sorry, I’m--”

“What’s happening? Where are we?”

“I’m trying to find that out, Princess. But I— I can’t connect to my hub at Freedom HQ. I’m not even getting a signal…”

The Princess pulled herself upright against the fallen log, panting. She spun her head from side to side, surveying the surroundings. Nothing moving, beyond the rustling of the leaves. Without the violence of her arrival, the atmosphere could even have been described as peaceful. After a few moments of silence, she grabbed the PDA, rose shakily to her feet, and limped away.

“It’s like my network is completely gone. My pings aren’t getting returned. I can’t even triangulate a nearby radio source. We’re off the grid.”

“Let me get out… of this forest. You can get a better signal there.”

Overcoming the twisted pain in the muscles of her legs, she began walking in earnest, warily navigating the rich floor of the shaded grove. This wasn’t any area of the Great Forest she knew. The trees were too thin and the fauna too sparse. Besides, she couldn’t sense the familiar anima of her childhood hideaway – the lustful spirit of adventure crowding at her lungs. Here, there was just air… flavorless air. Just how far from home were they?

After a few minutes’ march, the canopy thinned and she figured she must be nearing the forest’s edge. Breaking from the shade, twin hemispheres greeted her: a bold blue sky above, and miles of rolling green hills below. She lifted the PDA to eye level.

“Run photo recognition on this landscape,” she said. “Any matches?”

“… none at all. This isn’t anywhere we’ve scouted, Princess.”

“Any signals, then?”

“Negative… not even _his_.”

The words stuck in the Princess’ mind. _“Not even his.”_ A land without _him_? Without his megalomaniacal, toxic, sprawling influence? A land untouched? Was it even possible? She took two steps out from under the canopy, into the unfiltered sun.

A sharp pain in her foot called her attention down. She flinched, backpedaled, and leaned against a tree. She lifted her boot and craned her neck. A portion of the sole had been eaten away: the rubber had thinned to translucency and ruptured near the arch of her foot. It almost looked as though it had been boiled.

It wasn’t the source of her pain, however. The rubber was cool. The true offender was a thorny stem that had taken advantage of the breach in defenses and burrowed itself into her skin. She delicately removed it. “Need new boots,” she muttered.

“I believe… yes. I still have a stable nanite matrix sampled in this hardware. If you can find material – cloth, iron – I can reconstruct your damaged wardrobe, Princess.”

The Princess scanned the thin boundary of the hemispheres. Her blue eyes followed the smooth green surface of the grass, from left to right skimming the shallows shadowless under the midday sun. Her gaze stuck fast on a solitary flagpole, a steel beam upright against the rest of the world, whose fluttering flag of red and yellow defiantly ruptured the horizon.

Sally squinted – she didn’t recognize the flag’s design. Behind her, the distant sound of rustling leaves echoed. She felt a promise rising to her lips. A promise implicit to the hope and confidence of her words.

“I’ve got our destination, Nicole.”

“Take us there, Sally.”

\---

In the cobblestone streets of a hamlet two miles east of the impact site, a crowd of townsfolk in motley drab color swirled about a solitary figure. She extended a white-gloved arm forward, as if commanding an unseen force into battle.

“Would you _please_ make way? This interference is taxing.”

“Oy, Princess! You-”

                                                       “-now come on, you’ve gotta help us!”

“-nother one of those freak stars just came down near the city, see!”

“It was _just_ a meteor. Your town is not in danger. And this is hardly my jurisdiction.”

“Yea it is! You-”

                                                       “-the Resistance is supposed to help us!”  

“-heroes ought to be doing your jobs!”

“I’m not a servant of the Resistance, and I’m not a hero. I’m a servant to my kingdom alone. I’m here on private business as a traveler, nothing more. Now, I’d _demand_ that you-”

At the edge of her sight, just over the crest of the tallest hill, the town’s flagpole fell. A low metal buzz, like the peal of a distant church bell, rolled over the townsfolk. They answered with panicked screams. The Princess tightened her fists as the crowd yielded for the first time, a fireline in a forest, a sanctioned pathway for her exit.

After their first wave of panic, the people fell quiet; but the anxious absence of their words could hardly be described as quiet. It was a void saturated with _expectation._ That she would live up to the weight of her airy title: Princess of Sol, Defender of Worlds.

“Come on, Princess Blaze! Go give em what for!”

\---

Sally looked down at herself. New shirt, new shorts, new gloves. All black. The holes in her boots had been sealed, and their soles re-gridded with fresh rubber grooves. Their laces glistered with a metallic sheen. The cuffed sleeves of her jacket ran to her forearm now, and the side seam to her hips. A PDA holster waited at her waist.

“A makeover?” Sally asked, with pointed disdain.

“A makeover!” Nicole announced.

“Just tell me all this gear actually does something.”

“Of course! I synthesized the top layer of your boots – and almost all of your jacket – with nanite weave. They’re adaptable to weather and improve your combat capacity.”

“That’s why this jacket is so heavy.”

“Well, yes. Most of its structure is a metallic alloy. But it’s bulletproof, and fireproof!”

“Okay.”

Sally waited a beat for Nicole to continue. Her eyes traced the partially-dissolved mast of the felled flagpole. When Nicole remained silent, she asked aloud:

“So what’s with the shirt and shorts?”

“Well, they’re for… modesty?”

“ _Modesty?_ My fur’s always been thick enough-”

“Yes, Princess, but some of it was burnt off on reentry! I don’t think—”

Heat. A rush of scorching heat washed over Sally, concentrated to a point on her upper back. She flinched, drawing into herself, and dove forward on instinct. She tumbled down the grassy slope for five heartbeats, then rolled to a stop and rebalanced, the world spinning in her eyes. She gripped the dirt, looking back at the crest of the hill. Where was the enemy?

From the sky, a cat’s-eye stripe of brilliant ruby fire crashed down to scar the green grass black. A trailing coat embroidered with gold and tyrian purple fluttered out over thin lavender fur. Solitary, the enemy stepped forward, lip curled in contempt.

“Answer for your crimes, vandal.”

Sally staggered to her feet. The smell of burnt hair choked her mind. Behind her, she heard a familiar sound like chittering bugs as Nicole’s nanites restitched the weave of her jacket. She held up a hand, coughing. “Wait. I can explain—”

“Did you fell the flagpole?”

“Yes. But-”

"Then you must pay the price.”

Blaze glided a hand through the air – fingers pressed together, palm flat, as though wiping wood shavings from a table. At the edge of her glove sparks popped into life, and the air took up a viscous swirl as it illuminated with the life of fire. When Blaze had finished her motion, the growing wave of fire was already cascading down the hill towards its target.

“Nicole?” Sally asked, voice wavering.

“Ready, Sally!”

Sally turned and curled herself together as tightly as she could. Her jacket chittered and slid up to cover her head and lower back – she felt it stretching, distending to form a shield. When the fire struck, the force passed through her lazily, as a wave does when you drift two feet beneath the surface of the ocean.

“Princess, although my excitement may have been misleading, I must say I wasn’t hoping to employ my new capabilities this soon! I haven’t tested-”

“Yeah, I’m with you.” Sally warily stood from the tract of scorched earth and pivoted on a heel to face Blaze once again. She felt the nanite weave slide back into its usual proportions. “But it looks like we’re gonna have to do this on the fly.”

Sally rushed forward to take the offensive, scaling back up the smoldering hill.

“Oh? You’re approaching me, instead of running away?”

“I’d be happy to settle this peacefully. But if you’re set on fighting, let’s fight.”

Blaze lifted from the ground, fire hissing from the underside of her shoes. Gliding across the air, she swerved to Sally’s left on the uneven slope and threw a stripe of fire over the ground.

Sally raised a forearm to block it, seeing for herself the nanite weave moving. A silver liquid soaked from the blue fabric and molded itself into a rounded shield. The flames broke over the glimmering surface and wisped harmlessly away.

Blaze kept up the pressurized stream of fire as she circled around. Sally’s shield, growing dark red with heat, sizzled and dripped beads of silver-gold mercury to the floor.

“The nanite weave is going to denature under this heat!”

“How long can you hold out?”

“At this rate… less than a minute.”

Sally glanced behind her. She had nearly scaled the height of the hill now. She treaded in reverse – carefully, exactly, watching her shield dwindle – and at the moment it seemed the fire would overwhelm her, she ducked and fell behind the bulk of the dirt. The hiss of fire halted.

“You’re awfully resilient for a petty criminal,” the unseen cat called over to her. “And who’s that you’re speaking to? An accomplice?”

“I’m not a criminal,” Sally replied. She glanced again at the remaining steel of the flagpole. She stretched out an arm. “I’m just a traveler. Like I said, I can explain.”

“I’ll warn you now I’ve never heard an excuse that convinced me,” Blaze said.

“And who are you, exactly?”

“I am Princess Blaze of Solus. I may not be of this world… but today, I will stand in as adjudicator and executioner for the defenseless population of this town. They tell me monsters born of meteors have been preying on their cities. You fit the description.”

_Meteors?_ Sally thought. She recalled her awakening. The steaming crater. “I look like a monster to you?”

Silence. A wind rushed over the rolling hills and lifted the gray ashen remains of the grass up into the air. Sally tightened her fists. Her eyes faced up to the broad blue sky. The sun had rolled behind the curve of the hill, over her head.

A shadow flashed across her vision.

“Now, Nicole!”

Sally sprung to her feet, her shield reinforced with the steel Nicole had just stripped from the pole. Blaze sailed overhead, body parallel to the earth, flame jets screaming from the soles of her shoes. She extended an arm, and a plume of flame came down on Sally.

And Sally, with the force of the fire bearing down on her thin metal shield, inches of superheated air from her face, jumped up, swerving her body just close enough to Blaze for an outstretched arm to brush the edge of her coattails. It was enough. She collapsed back down, her right arm singed even with the preemptive jacket sleeve. Curling in her limbs, Sally waited as the replenished nanites webbed a shell over her.

Blaze landed. She turned back to look at the silver dome on the ground. Was that an attempted attack? She lifted a hand and levied another stream of fire, bringing it down hard on the shell. What was this magic? She had never seen its like.

The flames stopped. Blaze looked down at her wrist. _What?_ The cloth of her coat had been… ripped? No… it was moving, even now. Rippling, re-weaving itself…

A strip of cloth tore suddenly from her sleeve and leapt to her shoulder – then pulled itself taunt. Blaze cringed with the twist of her arm and stepped backwards, only to find that the silk of her pants had been interwoven as well.

She yowled and released a burst of fire from her core – but she knew already the coat was fire-resistant. It had been fashioned that way by her family. The flames licked uselessly against the fine gold and lavender threads as her limbs twisted to a strict bind. Helpless, she relaxed.

Sally stood. The nanite dome, its inner structure coated with spindling veins, receded back into the folds of her jacket. She flipped the PDA from its holster and popped the screen. “Nice work, partner.”

“Of course, Princess.”

“Are you willing to talk now, your highness?” Sally called.

Blaze lay silent. _Humiliating. Brought low by a… did she say... “Princess?”_

“If that’s a no, I can just leave you here.”

“Who are you?” Blaze asked, straining her neck to meet eyes with her captor.

“I’m Princess Sally Acorn. Today, I’m just looking to get back home. This is my friend and assistant, Nicole.” Sally lifted the PDA.

“Hello,” Nicole offered sheepishly.

Blaze paused. Her brow furrowed. “Why should I believe your claims of royalty?”

Sally looked over Blaze’s tangled body. “Are you in a position not to?”

Blaze’s eyes wandered. Then, letting her head fall backward: “Fine. Release me.”

“Come again?”

“I swear on the Sols not to attack you a second time. If your claims are true – your grace – then you’re familiar with the art of parley.”

“If memory serves… you were the first of us to attack. With prejudice. Now you want parley? Why should I believe _your_ claim?” Sally glanced to Nicole. The digital lynx shrugged.

“I’ll verify it now.” Blaze rotated a bound wrist and stretched out her fingers. Points of light – like colored fireflies – flickered from her fingertips. Numbering six, they formed a smooth, swirling circle above her body. Then in a flash, they grew to a few inches in diameter, and molded to the strict shape of rectangular prisms. Red, Silver, Purple, Blue, Green, Cyan. 

“These are the Sol Emeralds,” Blaze explained. “Crystals of immense power. My family has entrusted me with their protection.”

“Princess – they’re emitting radiation of similar frequency to the Chaos Emeralds.”

Sally watched them swirl lazily in their perfect orbit. When Blaze had withdrawn them again to her holding, Sally nodded. She approached Blaze, crouched beside her, and rested a hand on her back. “Set her free, Nicole.”

The cloth bands binds Blaze receded to their points of origin. Mercurial beads skittered off the silk, retreating to the padding of Sally’s synthetic gloves. Blaze stretched out her arm, tensing and untensing the muscle.

Sally crossed to stand over the lavender cat. She offered a hand.

Blaze ignored it, pushing herself up to her feet. She took Sally’s hand only after she had stood, and held Sally’s gaze throughout, her gold eyes shimmering with intensity.

“I’ve never heard of an Acorn family on Beryllia,” Blaze stated, breaking away. She surveyed the wasted earth, rubbing her thumb over her forefinger.

“Beryllia?”

Blaze flicked her wary eyes back to Sally, then down to Nicole’s PDA, then up again. She pulled in a curt breath. “What world do you call home?”

Sally tilted her head. “Mobius.” Two heartbeats passed. “Are you telling me we’re not on Mobius, right now?”

Blaze turned away again, looking up to the sky. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes against the sun: bars of translucent shadow dragged across her face. “This might be a bigger problem than I’d thought,” she murmured.

“Wait– then where are we?” Sally spun around, surveying the hills that rolled on to the low grove-horizon. Her breath quickened. “Where are we, right now?”

“This is Green Hill Zone. Beryllia.”

“But what- wait, Green Hill? Then how-”

Blaze held up a hand for silence. Sally stared with wide eyes.

“I can’t promise to answer all of your questions, Princess Sally of Acorn, though I’ll extend you the courtesy of trying. But what I can tell you now is this: you are a long, long way from home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beryllia is a planet with history matching the world of the games (with some partial retcons for sanity). I may explicitly detail this history by uploading my notes about it at a different point in time.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule likely Tuesdays and Thursdays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	2. The Way Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upload schedule likely Tuesdays and Thursdays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.

##  2 – The Way Forward

Sally swung the lantern before her. Its delicate light gilded the dried wooden rafters that melded gradually into the yawning black throat of the mine. The distant sound of water flowing. Sally mulled over the words she’d exchanged with Princess Blaze after the latter had quieted the agitated townsfolk and promised them a replacement for their flag.

_“Your world, Mobius, is the only world you’ve ever known. But it is only one of many.”_

_“You’re talking about… other planets? I’m on another planet, in space?”_

_“Yes, in a way. But that description hardly does justice to the gravity of your situation…”_

Sally descended steps worn by years of gritty boot-soles. The air around her thinned slightly with every step. Its texture grew misty, breathy. The walls of the cave glistened with the soft yellow light of memory. Years underground. The forest and blue sky that had greeted her in this alien place were familiar enough but only here, some 10 yards deep in the quiet and hopeful earth, could she begin to feel at home.

_“What lies between this world and yours isn’t simple space alone. There’s a greater barrier, imperceptible to the eye, that divides them. A dimensional barrier.”_

_“Oh, I see. Then, this is another Zone.”_

_“Pardon?”_

Spying something near the cragged corner of the tunnel wall, Sally crouched. She traced her fingers along the ruddy stain of ore creeping up from the churned gravel flooring.

_“Myself, Nicole, all our friends – and enemies – are from the Zone of Mobius ‘Prime.’ But there are multiple versions of Mobius, Zones, some elements the same… others different. We can move between Zones with powered Star Posts – or, this is how I’ve had it explained to me.”_

_“No – I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Correct, perhaps, but mistaken.”_

Sally set her lantern down beside the vein of ore. She stared on at the flickering flame, sealed off from the wind of the world within its narrow glass cage.

_“You’re correct in that you can imagine your dimension, home to Mobius – Dimension the Third, as my family calls it – as a branching candelabrum. Many flames, many reflections of a similar world, yet stemming all from the same base. But this place – Dimension the First, home to Beryllia – is an entirely separate candle. A dissimilar flame, distant and solitary.”_

“Princess?”

Sally fluttered her eyelids. “Yes?”

“Would you like me to begin the conversion process?” Nicole’s tinny voice echoed from the holster just below Sally’s ribs. She drew the PDA and propped it open. Nicole’s curious black eyes, thinned through the green-gray backlight of her screen, were waiting there for her.

Sally set the PDA down on the ore and rolled from her knees to a sitting position. She pressed her back to the solid stone wall and felt its cold on her neck. “Go ahead.”

_“And what separates the candles from one another is that ‘barrier’ you mentioned?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“I need to cross that to get back.”_

_“… Yes.”_

_“How would I go about doing that?”_

_“I’m not sure that you – you, personally – can.”_

From the edges of the PDA, flowing silver rivulets gently trickled along the textured grooves of the ore, growing slowly as they amalgamated the raw earth.

_“Your meaning?”_

_“Crossing the dimensional barrier is no small feat. Traditionally, you’d need a source of immense power to fuel the journey, and an especially tenacious being – or an artisan machine – to serve as a conduit for its energy.”_

_“‘Especially tenacious being?’”_

_“An individual that can sustain the energy current long enough to direct it. An example being myself, and these Sol Emeralds.”_

From the bubbling mercurial puddle, the shape of a ring emerged. With a silent urging it grew, steadily, to a tube four inches high. Sally lifted it from the primordial soup, and looked to Nicole’s screen, where a rendered diagram was unfolding.

_“Right – you said you were from another dimension.”_

_“Yes. Dimension Thirteenth.”_

_“Then… could you just send me back now?”_

_“No, unfortunately._ Solus sol deservit. _The Sol Emeralds serve only my family; to any other organic being, they are useless. I go alone. You might find more success seeking out the Chaos Emeralds.”_

The next part: an elbow. The next part: a flywheel. As the nanites spread, churning deeper within the silent walls of the mine, the metal pieces they produced grew in size. Sally set the pipe within the elbow, twisting it to set the iron bond.

“Princess, must you insist on assembling this yourself?”

“You said the nanites can’t create complex machines.”

“Yes – but I can automate some steps of the process as you sleep. At its present rate the part production alone will take another four hours. I’d prefer that you rest—”

“I’m too wired to sleep. Just keep the diagram running… please.”

The next part: a pipe ring. The next part: a rounded handle.

_“There are Chaos Emeralds here?”_

_“Yes. Most dimensions feature their own collection of powerful artifacts… though I’m unsure how one would begin seeking the Chaos Emeralds out. They have no Guardian to appeal to. Only a tentative association with some… unusual characters.”_

_“And who are they?”_

_“Lately they've taken to calling themselves ‘The Resistance.’”_

The next part: rivets. The next part: loops. Together, links in a roller chain. The next part:

\---

Morning light filtered in through the warping wooden shutters of a second-floor inn room. Blaze stirred from the coarse tan sheets and looked across the room to the purple and gold and white of her coat, burning quietly in the windowlight.

Ten rings covered the night’s stay. When she again crossed the threshold from the humble, warm-quiet inn to the cool early-day air she pulled in a long breath and wrung her stiff wrists. Being bound in the threads of her own dress yesterday surely wasn’t a help.

Blaze looked longwise over the town market as it was slowly populated by weary townsfolk, the very same who had leapt to fervent life in hopes a hero might defend them. Defend them from…

Blaze turned to the western horizon. A new flagpole – practically indistinguishable from its predecessor. As though she’d rewound time and the turning of the sun.

From the hills beneath the flying flag echoed a sound like a swarm of cicadas. Blaze squinted – something was moving towards town. Low, dark, holding at a smooth pace over the grass. A machine? An enemy?

Blaze felt her legs already in motion, carrying her towards the unknown. Her palms began to itch beneath her gloves. The world grew brighter as her pupils widened.

Then—a mark of blue on the arrival. A mark of red. Princess Sally? On a motorcycle. Blaze staved off her internal questions until her sometime enemy arrived. They crossed paths at the edge of town, where the cobblestone became dirt became patched grass.

“Princess Blaze. Good morning.”

“Princess Sally. Might I ask where you acquired your vehicle?”

“I built it. With Nicole’s help. We salvaged the component iron, trace metals, prismatic crystal… all of it from the mine. Thank you for guiding us there yesterday, by the way.”

Sally adjusted a small box clipped to the fur on the side of her head. A transparent screen protruded from its side and curved around to form a panel over her left eye. Points of green light glowed on the glass’ surface.

“You created this… eyepiece, too?”

“Yes. It allows me to see Nicole.”

“See her?”

Sally paused, glancing sideways at Blaze, her lips slightly parted. Then she looked somewhere far away, pondering on her words – and finally, pressed a button on her eyepiece that released it from her head, and handed it over to Blaze.

“Here, look for yourself.”

Blaze accepted the small machine and pressed it to her temple, glimpsing a threadbare wire connecting it still to Sally’s jacket. Then suddenly, something dark and blurry materialized behind Sally. Blaze started – small sparks flew from her fingertips.

Stifling a laugh, Sally powered down and dismounted her bike. “Just give it a second.”

The amorphous shadow slowly contracted: its edges pressed to exact points and distinct colors emerged from the dilute smoke. Black ears above a brown face above billowing purple robes. A feminine form, apparently reclining on the air itself. Where her feet should meet the ground the shadows lingered, an obscure cloud of sharp black shards.

“Hello again,” Nicole said, a shy smile in her green eyes. Her voice buzzed from within the eyepiece.

“Is this a live transmission?” Blaze asked, glancing from Nicole to Sally. “I’ve never seen its like.”

Sally bit her lip. “Not exactly. Nicole is… well… she can explain for herself.”

“I am Princess Sally’s personal assistant. I help her any way that I can… mostly through organizing my nanites as support or on offense.”

“Nanites?” Blaze squinted.

“The silver liquid Sally used to defend herself yesterday when you… er…” Nicole trailed off with a light grimace – then flicked her head back up. “They’re microscopic machines, and an extension of myself. I can dissolve and reshape metal alloys to create anything from armor to… motorcycle parts. They’re highly efficient, but practically invisible.”

Nicole held out her hand, palm up. A translucent green model shimmered into existence over it: the main body octahedral in shape, with a tether below it that ran out to spindling legs.

“If they are an extension of you, then you are a machine as well?”

Nicole flinched slightly. “I’m… an artificial intelligence, yes.”

Blaze looked over to Sally, who was crouched beside her bike, pressing her thumb into the tire treads to test their give. “Is she your slave?”

Sally whipped her head up. “What?”

“Your indentured servant. Or-”

“No!” Nicole gasped. “Nothing like that! I’m Sally’s friend, and her subject. I’ve been working for her for many years – of my own will.”

“A retainer, then,” Blaze mused.

“I… yes.” Nicole scratched behind her ear.

“And you’re the technomage controlling these ‘nanites?’”

“Yes, you could say that.”

“Hm.” Blaze brusquely removed the eyepiece and turned it back over to Sally, who watched the former with some concern.

Sally reequipped the gear and straddled her bike.

“Then you’re continuing with your plan to seek out the Resistance?” Blaze asked.

“Yes. Nicole triangulated the direction of their radio waves this morning.”

“How far?” Blaze asked.

“About two hundred miles southwest of here,” Sally sighed, scrying the horizon. She fiddled with the straps of her gloves, then looked back to meet Blaze’s eyes. “And what’s next for you, Princess Blaze?”

“I have my own mission to complete.” Blaze said, stretching her neck.

“Which would be?”

“Confidential.”

“Well, that’s hardly fair to the art of parley,” Sally said, smiling. “First rule: _quid pro quo._ You’ve helped me with my predicament. The least I can do is offer some counsel on yours.”

Blaze pressed her lips together. She felt it at the tip of her tongue: _I don’t need your help._ But something in the nagging curiosity sparked memories of another blue adventurer… with some hesitation, she admitted: “I’m seeking the seventh Sol Emerald. It’s gone missing.”

Sally quirked an eyebrow. “Was it stolen?”

“Not likely. The Sols are quite different from the Chaos Emeralds. They have their own will: sometimes individual, other times collective. They seem to go where they believe they are needed… this is not the first time I’ve followed one here.”

Sally waited a beat, rocking forward on her seat. “Do you think—”

The chrome plating of Sally’s bike glittered. A subtle detail – hardly enough to trip the awareness of either princess, whose gazes had already wandered on to their next objectives. But just a second after, in the sky above, the gathering clouds were reamed apart like sheets of wetted newspaper, and a subsonic tremor rippled over the air. The frayed ends of Sally’s hair wavered.

“Another meteor,” Blaze muttered.

The bike’s motor hummed to life. Setting her feet on the pedals, Sally wiped her thumb left to right over her eyepiece. As her thumb reached the edge of the glass, she continued the motion: the screen, glittering with the flow of nanites, grew until it had crossed to her other temple. Its center folded in for the bridge of her nose – a visor.

“I’m going after it,” Sally stated.

Blaze wrinkled her nose. “For what purpose? That’s north. You’re going south.”

“It might not be a direct ticket home, but it could be a clue as to why I’m here. Maybe it’s like your Emeralds – there could be a bigger will behind it all.”

“I pray that you’re wrong.” Blaze lifted a hand. “Farewell, Princess Sally.”

“Good hunting. And, thank you. Princess Blaze.”

“Yes.”

 Sally rolled her wrist. The spinning treads bit into the soft sod, churning it for leverage, and then she was moving, off towards the shooting star, Blaze standing and watching her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've uploaded Prologue 1 and 2 together to give some headway for anyone interested. Again comments and feedback are highly appreciated.
> 
> There will likely be around 7 or 8 prologue parts.
> 
> Following that will be 4 "Chapters", each composed of around 10 parts, and an epilogue.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule likely Tuesdays and Thursdays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	3. Collateral Damage

##  3 – Collateral Damage

The buildings were already burning by the time Sally arrived.

Screams. The blurred motion of fleeing townsfolk. The instinctual urge to shut your eyes against the ash raining down from the smoke columns overhead. She found herself shouting at anyone she saw, waving her arms and pointing to catch attention:

“Hey you! Hey! Leave your things, just go!”

                                                                                    “Hey! Keep your head low!”

“Focus on saving lives! Leave your things!”

                                                                        “Stay away from closed doors!”

Sally swerved around the smoldering timbers and shattered glass of collapsed houses, inbound on the central street. She’d been in a war most of her life, and hardly expected herself to balk at a sight like this. But something about a quiet village, filled with hope and purpose, being reduced to cinders before her eyes… it dug at her like a thorn between her ribs.

A young boy – a fox – with a familiar orange fur color darted out from an alleyway.

Sally’s heart leapt. “Hey!” she shouted.

The boy slowed, turning to look back over his shoulder.

Only one tail. Sally’s breath caught back up to her. “What happened here?” she called.

“Just run,” he said, breathlessly, and vanished into the smoke.

“Princess—” Nicole’s voice came urgently from the eyepiece.

“Any luck finding the crater?” Sally asked, speeding past the tumbling stone face of a home.

“Negative. I’m monitoring for a thermal peak but my sensors aren’t accurate enough given the environment… again, I urge you leave this highly hazardous locale!”

“And what, let this place burn down on top of these— Hey!” Sally shouted at her newest audience, “Just leave your property! Head for the outskirts of town!”

“Pr—Sally. Please, these aren’t your subjects. Furthermore, if the meteor did initiate this fire it must have impacted the densest section of town. You’re only endangering yourself.”

“I…” With her breath thinning, Sally stopped the motorbike near a tall stone tower at the center of town. Provided the fire hadn’t gotten to the wooden rafters inside, it would be safe here. She covered her mouth to cough and looked up to the front of the building.

A round window of stained glass loomed over her. It was at least twenty feet in diameter, with intricate concentric rings of color subdivided into spheres. The effect was as if a single moment had been frozen in tintype permanence: the precise procession of crystal planets around a point of orbit arrested and set quite literally in stone. Each tinted glass shallow and the ribboned steel framing it was ablaze with golden firelight.

Sally sighed. “… fine. Can you route us out of here?”

“I don’t have GPS data but I can—”

The window shattered. In the final instant of its beauty a wingbow rain of rainbow shards flew in freedom from their perfect geographic prisons and juggled between them a thousand points of light. An uneven ripple passed from the epicenter of the impact across the entirety of the priceless piece, bursting every pane into pastel daggers: coming through it all, birthed from the technicolor hailstorm, a whirling ball of pink and green and yellow. A wave of fire followed.

Sally lifted her arms and pulled her eyelids shut for the impact.

Then… nothing.

Sally cracked an eye. The fire, the glass… everything was gone. She looked around, then up towards the window. Where the glass had been, in the empty stone socket, Blaze stood. She was looking down into the building.

“Princess Blaze!” Sally called. “What are you doing here?”

Blaze muttered something to herself.

“Hello?” Sally called again.

“You might want to see this,” Blaze responded, back still turned. She pointed inside.

“Isn’t there a fire in there?”

“I’ve just put it out. Come in.” Blaze dropped from the sill, disappearing.

“Put it… out?” Sally dismounted her bike and approached the tall oak doors. She tentatively pressed a hand to the wood. Cool on her fingertips. She pushed it open.

The stone tower at the building’s front let back into a tall, open room. Blaze waited for her by the entrance. Further in, wooden benches, some sunken into cinders, others only dusted with ash, all faced towards a wooden platform at the back of the high hall. A table at the stage’s center held a cup and a narrow box.

“What’s in here?” Sally asked.

Blaze pointed across the long red carpet separating them from the stage.

Sally noticed then that the wall of thin wooden lattice below the stage’s platform had been broken away in one area. A gloved hand emerged now from the revealed abyss.

Blaze rubbed her fingers together. Small crackling sparks burst from the silken surface. Sally tightened her fists. The nanites of her jacket trickled down over her forearms.

The shadowy hand pulled forward pink spines… a yellow and green dress. It was a short hedgehog girl, towing behind her an enormous steel bar with a hammer head at the end. Rather than flat faces, the hammer terminated in hyperbolic points, and the structure of its metal body was painted over crudely with a crisscrossing design of black-and-yellow.

Visibly dazed, the girl climbed to her feet and leaned against the wooden platform. “Okay,” she muttered, rubbing her head. “Okay, okay okay okay.”

“… _Amy_?” Sally asked. “Wh… dressed in her old clothes?”

“Amy Rose?” Blaze asked. “The Resistance officer?”

“The _what_?” Sally turned to Blaze.

Slowly the girl’s muttering became a shout. “Okay, which one of you hurted me?!”

“That isn’t Amy Rose.” Blaze tilted her head. “How do you even know of her?”

The girl’s light green eyes locked on Sally. She curled her neck up in confusion. “Alicia?” she asked, tugging on the yellow hem of her skirt. “What are you doing here?”

“Alicia?” Sally stared blankly at the floor. _Amy? Resistance officer? Mother? Too much._ She closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her right hand up against her forehead. Quietly, she asked Blaze: “Earlier, your highness, did you say you could _put out_ fire?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be able to put out this entire town?”

“Yes.”

“How quickly?”

“In about ten minutes.”

“Could you do that?”

“Why would I.”

Sally shrugged, some desperation slipping into her voice. “As a favor? To me? I’ll repay you any way you want. Name it.”

“Hey, I asked you guys a question!”

Blaze looked up, considering. “Then… could you neutralize that girl? I believe she might be another dimensional interloper.”

“What did you just call me?!”

“I’ll do it,” Sally said.

“Good. Then I will see you after.” Blaze turned and leapt upwards, her shoe soles bursting into a jet stream of fire. She flew through the empty circle and into the burning sky.

The hedgehog girl had advanced halfway across the carpet. “Alicia-a-a, why are you hanging out with big meanies now? I thought you were cool!”

“My name is Sally,” Sally said, raising a warding hand. “Alicia is my mother’s name. Who are you?”

“C’mon. Don’t mess with me… I know you’re Alicia. You used to be the Princess. You’re one of Scourgey’s friends… you know where he is, right? I can’t find him anywhere!”

“Scourgey? …” Sally muttered. _Anti-Mobius._

The doppelganger lurched forward over her hammer. “Are you playing duuuuumb, Alicia.”

“No, I… I know who you are now, Anti-Amy.”

“It’s _Rosy_. Rosy the Rascal! Why are you acting like you don’t know me? Or Scourge?” Rosy tilted her head, her eyelashes fluttering, her mouth crumpled in disbelief. She appeared genuinely distressed. Then, suddenly, the features of her face smoothed out - as a used bedsheet does when ironed. Her pursed mouth popped open to an O. “You’re trying to hide him from me?”

“No… Rosy. I don’t have anything to do with Scourge. Why don’t we talk--”

Rosy’s near-constant, quiet murmuring bubbled up until she was shouting over Sally’s words. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you! You’re just keeping him for yourself! Then. I’m going to smash you. Just like I’ll smash anything else that gets between the two of us!”

To punctuate her statement, Rosy swung her hammer like a driver into the underside of one of the building’s benches. The force was enough to wrench the wood up from its bolts in the floor and flip it completely over. It whirled ominously through the air before it rejoined the ground with a deafening impact. Emitting a screech, Rosy rushed towards Sally.

Sally set her right foot forward and dug the treads of her boot into the red carpet. Make a decision. Fight or flight?  She glanced behind her at the exit. She needed a better opening if she was going to take down Rosy. She needed more time. Flight it was.

Sally doubled back for the exit. She shouldered open the door and rushed into the street. The world was silent. Somber peace. Ash rained from the sky and piled in drifts on the buildings like smoldering snow. Blaze had already extinguished these flames.

Across the street, an opening between two marketplace stands. The bike would take too long to start back up…

Sally dashed for the gap. On her way between the stands she grabbed a tower of empty crates and jerked them down to block the entrance. She sprinted through the tight alley, ducking under a low sign. A few seconds of breathing. Then behind her, the sound of wood shattering. Rosy had cleared her small obstacle.

Sally turned left, following the trail of stone gutters in the cobblestone street. They would take her uphill. Ahead, an abandoned wheelbarrow blocked the way. Its steel drum had been rolled on its side. Sally prepared to clear it when she noticed that just beyond, the black rung of a lamppost jutted out from a building. If she could get enough momentum…

“Nicole? I’m making a jump.”

“Ready, Princess.”

Sally’s jacket sleeve extended past her right arm and curved to form a rigid hook. She felt the internal structure of her shirt bind like a harness to its outer cover. In a smooth movement, she planted a foot on the wheelbarrow’s side and launched herself up to the lamppost. She waved her right arm overhead and caught it on the light. She tightened her abdomen as her body swung centripetal force. Then the tension of the nanites released and she was flying up to the edge of the tiled roof. She stretched out her left hand…

And it was just short. The roof began to pull away from her when her hand caught on the shutter of the window just below. Its upper hinge instantly snapped, but the bottom held, enough for Sally to get her foot on the windowsill. From here she grabbed the edge of the tiling and hauled herself up to the roof.

Looking down, she spied Rosy bounding up the inclined alley, calling out Alicia’s name, smashing any windows she came across as she went. Sally figured she had a few minutes to weigh her advantage, and looked over the span of the town.

About a hundred yards away, Blaze was gliding from rooftop to rooftop, waving her hands as a conductor would to quell the flames. The mediator between the realms of burning chaos and ashen control.

“Found you!”

Sally whipped her head around – Rosy was already flying to eye level. Sally dropped to her knees to dodge a lateral swing. Rosy groaned in annoyance as she finished the arc of her jump and landed on the opposing rooftops. On the street below, a deep impact crater from Rosy’s hammer jump had been punched through the cobblestone.

“Princess, assuming that stone composition as riverbed conglomerate, I’d estimate that hammer’s impact force at about 2,000 PSI. Enough to break any bone in your body.”

“Yep, got it,” Sally muttered. _If I can’t block it…_ “I need something to deflect it.”

Rosy doubled back to get a running start.

“What did you have in mind?"

“Swords, spears… gauntlets, even.” Sally looked down at her hands. “Something to get me at range.” The nanites crept through to her gloves, then steadily built their way out from her knuckles to long, thin blades – one on each arm.

Rosy had reached the edge of her roof. She drove the hammer’s green point into the clay shingles, levying the force to catapult herself over the street. She whirled in the air and landed even on her white and green sneakers, facing Sally.

Sally readied her blades.

Rosy advanced with the first swing, down, over her head. Sally parried it to the floor and stepped backward, wining as the shingle shards scratched her ankle. From here Rosy pivoted and spun the hammer around – Sally fell back, allowing it to skim over her stomach. Flipping over to regain her footing, Sally leapt over a short block of smokestacks. Rosy promptly destroyed them and advanced through the lingering smoke.

Sally spun around and checked Rosy’s hammer with a swing of her sword. Clang! Rosy bared her teeth and swung down again. There wasn’t much to her pattern of movement. She didn’t appear trained – or even composed. It remained her of the early SWATbots; Sally found herself relaxing into easy sidesteps. But the fight was still unsustainable… She had to watch her footing. A wrong step could mean a leg down a chimney or a twenty-five-foot drop.

Sally turned and leapt to another roof, but when she arrived realized it was smaller than she’d anticipated. When Rosy burst forward with sudden speed and crossed the gap to meet Sally, the two found themselves on a platform only a few feet wide. Rosy jutted her hammer out directly, like a battering ram – Sally crossed her blades and pushed back, but felt her ankle slipping over the edge, to a drastic slope of shingling.

Rosy leaned in until their faces were just inches apart. Her mouth was slack, and her eyebrows pulled taut with focus. “There’s a little lady in your glasses!” she cried.

“Gah,” Sally choked as she strained against her. The little girl was horrifically strong. She needed an out… stall for time. “I’d love to show her to you, Rosy—”

“I wanna smash her! And your glasses! Into pretty little pieces…”

Sally glanced behind her. It might work. “Yes,” she answered. “Right after this.” She willingly slipped backwards down the shingling, allowing Rosy’s hammer to fall forward – and grabbing her opponent by the stomach and leg, Sally improvised a suplex, flipping herself over. Rosy impacted the roof with a gasp, and apparently stunned by the motion, tumbled two stories further to the street. Her hammer followed. Thud.

Sally skidded a bit, but managed to dig her left arm-blade beneath the tiles and avoid the same fate. She looked down from the edge – Rosy was face-down on the pavement, her hammer vanished. Sally eased out a sigh of relief.

“Well done, Princess.”

“Likewise.”

\---

Sally managed to scale back to the highest point of the roof. When Blaze had completed her own task, and a storm of ashes had begun to cloud the noontime sunlight, Sally flagged her down and the two descended to the street. There, Sally performed her newfound trick of binding Rosy by her own clothes and hefted her onto her shoulders. The two began the walk back to Sally’s motorcycle.

“Thank you for apprehending this one,” Blaze said. “She seemed to fit the description of ‘monsters’ I’ve been hearing.”

“Right…” Sally tilted her head. “… anyway, how bad was the damage to the town?”

“Extensive. But the spread was uneven. Only some areas are irrecoverably damaged.”

“Sheesh.” Sally rubbed her neck.

Blaze watched her for a moment, then asked: “You were urgent to have me extinguish this place. Why?”

“Why?” Sally repeated, baffled.

“This territory falls within neither of our jurisdictions. And you have a mission.”

“... sure. I want to get home. But this is still a place on fire. A place full of people. You’ve got to put the fire out. That’s what you do when there’s a place full of people on fire.”

Blaze wrinkled her nose. “Forgive this observation, but you speak a bit crudely for a claimant princess.”

Sally paused, a palm elevated into the air in disbelief. Silently, she revised her next sentence. Then: “I _feel_ that, regardless of our status as royalty, we have an… obligation, to assist _anyone_ in danger. Especially when we have an actionable plan and knowledge of their situation.”

Blaze stared back at her with a wary gaze.

“Could I ask why you came here in the first place, then? If it wasn’t to help anyone. I thought you were continuing your search for the Sol Emerald.”

Blaze took a deep breath. “I’d been meditating on your apparently involuntary arrival here from Dimension the Third. I fear it may be as you said… greater machinations at work. And if that is the case, my family will likely be involved shortly. I wanted to investigate the next meteor occurrence personally for any answers.” She gestured to their captive.

“You’ve mentioned your family a few times now,” Sally noted. At the corner of her vision, Nicole flashed a green number: 4. “and your jurisdiction, and so on. What exactly… is the role of your family?”

“You don’t need to know any more than I’ve told you at this time,” Blaze retorted.

Sally blinked. Seemed arbitrary. She thought of a few ways she could push Blaze for an answer, but they had already arrived at their destination and so she offered a concessive “Okay.”

In the remnants of the marketplace, a small crowd of townsfolk were gathered by the stone tower, trampling stray shards of the stained glass window and looking mournfully up at where it had been. Some noticed their arrival and turned gossiping and uncertain to their surviving friends.

“Wait,” Blaze said.

Sally turned to her.

“Do you expect this criminal to know more about the greater phenomenon at work?”

“The meteors? No. It’d probably be useless to ask her, besides. She’s insane.”

“A shame,” Blaze mused. “Then we’ll leave her to local authorities.”

“Fair enough,” Sally said. She lowered Rosy to the ground. She thought for a moment she weighed remarkably little – but she had scaled that judgment against the ridiculous strength the little girl commanded. She wondered then what twisted path this Amy had followed in her dark mirror world. Power and madness; likely for the love of a tyrant.

She readied an announcement. Some pretext for incarceration—

“Hang her.”

“What?” Sally balked.

“Hang her!” A townswoman emerged. She wrung an ashen apron in her hands. “That’s the girl what burned the town and broke the church! I saw! Let’s hang her!”

Sally turned. Blaze was already walking away. “Wh—Blaze?”

Blaze halted and turned. “ _Princess_ Blaze," she corrected. "Aren’t we leaving?”

Sally nervously jerked Rosy’s unconscious body back, away from the advancing crowd of Beryllians. Their rumbling, mournful gossip evolved into angry cries.

Sally raised a hand. “Everyone, wait! Please calm down. The damage is done. This girl is restrained. When the proper authorities come, she’ll stand trial and be imprisoned for—”

“No prison! Hang her!”

                        “No… burn her! She burned our town, we burn her!”

            “Yeah! Burn her!”

Still backpedaling, Sally pivoted and pushed on the door to an adjacent building – it swung open and she dragged Rosy backwards into what appeared to be a kind of pub.

She pressed her free hand to the doorknob.

“Lock it, Nicole,” she urged.

“Understood.”

The silver liquid funneled in from her fingertips to the keyhole. _Whrr-click:_ the tumbler spun and its iron pins shunted closed.

Wham! A fist on the sealed wooden door.

Sally turned at the sound of heels clicking down stairs: Blaze, descending from the upper floor. “I came in through the window,” she explained. “Could I ask what you’re trying to achieve, here? You’re plainly upsetting them.”

“They want to hang her!” Sally said, gesturing to the mounting barrage on the door.

“Then let them,” Blaze said. “This is their town. Their judgment stands.”

“No! This is… it’s mob rule. Ochlocracy. And it’s murder!”

“It’s justice.”

“Where are the courts? Authorities?”

“There may be no such things in this world. Neither are there in mine.”

“What? So you just go around executing people?”

“You don’t?”

“No! If we can detain criminals alive, we always give them a chance. Even…” Sally covered an eye. “Even the worst of them. We give them fair trial, and a life sentence at most.”

“What would a trial resolve?” Blaze pointed to Rosy. “She’s clearly guilty. We saw her actions firsthand. These people understand that there is no more for her to contribute. We agreed to leave her to the local authority – and execution is their rule.”

“There can be—” The impact of something on the door – _was that an axe?_ – aborted Sally's sentence. She tightened her grip on Rosy’s binds. “Look… here’s an idea. Maybe I was too quick to judge – Rosy could still know something about all this, I don’t know. But we can’t ask her if she’s dead. So why don’t we take her away from the angry mob with… axes? What do you say?”

Blaze weighed Sally’s words. Then sighed. “If you say so.” She crouched and lifted Rosy from the floor. Returning to the staircase, she added, “Rendezvous three miles south of here.”

“Got it,” Sally said. “And thank you. Princess.”

The matte fuchsia and white stripe of Blaze’s shoe disappeared at the top step.

Behind Sally, the door began to give under the fury of the villagers. She leapt over the bar and pushed through the swinging door to the kitchen. Instantly a severe stench washed over her – she gagged and covered her nose. Steel racks ran from wall to wall, dangling… drying fish.

Hearing the first of the townsfolk enter the bar, she jogged to the back exit of the kitchen and ducked into the street. Straight shot to the motorcycle: and the crowd distracted enough they didn’t hear the quiet hum of a motor starting, and tires spinning, and Sally disappearing out to the limits of their crumbling town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if dialogue is sometimes hard to follow. In my drafts I like to keep dialogue color-coded by voice, so things may be clearer to me than results on the site. If any of you know of a way for me I might get that colored text into the published chapters please leave a comment / contact me.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule likely Tuesdays and Thursdays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	4. Black and White

## 

##  4 – Black and White

“You claim you are a princess. That is to say, you rule a kingdom?”

“Yes? Well—yes.”

Sally had hardly disembarked her motorcycle by the start of Blaze’s question. The lone palm tree she had chosen for a visual flag of their rendezvous point bolstered a tidy pool of shade under their feet. Rosy, still unconscious, lay upright against the trunk.

“And you ruled that kingdom without ever killing anyone? You’ve never ordered any soldiers to war, or appointed an executioner?”

“I _fought_ in our wars,” Sally said, wiping her eyepiece back. “So I’ve done my fair share of ‘executions.’ Personally. But we never kill _our own_. Especially not with axes.”

“This girl is not ‘our own.’ She is a vagrant and a criminal. Her actions were plainly observed by the offended parties and ourselves. I struggle to see what… _your_ struggle is. If it—”

“—No, that’s—”

“—isn’t with killing itself—”

“—let me just—”

“—then I don’t understand.” Blaze said, shrugging.

“Look,” Sally sighed. “I guess it must be different here. And wherever you come from. But where _I_ come from… you don’t just _kill_ when you don’t have to.”

“Crime must be punished somehow. Especially an action as grievous as this.”

“She should be punished, sure. But not with murder. Trust me, with what I’ve seen – even _if_ Rosy had started that fire, and I don’t think she did – this is practically petty crime against the scope of _real_ evil on my planet.”

“How are you distinguishing ‘real evil’ from any other form of deviancy?”

Sally sighed. “Maybe it’s just a matter of scope? Perspective? See, in the past fifteen years, anywhere between half and all of my home planet has been controlled by a madman named Robotnik.”

“Robotnik…” Blaze crossed her arms, her golden irises wandering pensively to the corners of her eyes.

“Do you know him?”

Blaze shook her head. “… Continue.”

Sally blinked. “Right. Well, Robotnik is this… cruel, unstable, greedy tyrant. He was a Warlord in my father’s court before he usurped him with a technology called ‘Roboticization.’”

“And that is?”

“Nicole, you probably have a better definition.”

The PDA’s speaker buzzed to life. “It was a nearly-instantaneous, universalized procedure that converted outer layers of muscle and nervous tissue into metallic plating and inorganic circuitry. It also left the mind in a vegetative, highly suggestible state.”

“So… he turned your people into machines? Then controlled them?”

“Yes. He converted half the population of our capital into slaves and mobilized them to kill the rest. I was the only Acorn to escape the city, so they sat me on my wooden throne, and told me to lead the people. Whoever was left. I… made a lot of mistakes.” Sally leaned on the handlebars of her motorcycle, drawing a steady breath. “But I did get one thing right. One of my first actions as interim monarch was outlawing capital punishment. No more killing our own.”

Blaze clasped her hands. “That _does_ sound like a child’s rule.”

“How so?”

“Ignorant. Expensive. Woefully forgiving.”

Sally gave a suppressed cough. “If you think I was ignorant then, then I must still be. Because I stand by that rule. I have since I made it... even when I haven't wanted to.”

“Then our viewpoints are irreconcilable,” Blaze stated. She waved the conversation away. “Let’s not waste our time. We should be readying our questions for the interloper.”

“She’s still unconscious,” Sally said, leaning forward over the side of her motorcycle to glimpse the sleeping Rosy. “But, why so dismissive? I’m happy to hear your side of things.”

“You don’t need to, if I won't be convincing you,” Blaze said. “And you certainly won’t be convincing me.”

“I’m not trying to convince you, necessarily. I'm just looking for some... mutual understanding. I don’t think anyone makes decisions in a vacuum. I don’t believe anyone should.” Sally found her eyes wandering the milky landscape of the clouds. The sky here… was it a different shade of blue?

At Blaze’s silence, Sally signed offering with her hand and continued: “Here, I’ll put it this way. Around the time I realized the gravity of my situation – that by any rational account the war was long since lost – I also realized that things were only going to get worse. Robotnik had already corralled us all into a few hundred thousand acres of forest and every day his factories chewed that much closer through the trees to our final stronghold. Our custodians tried to distract us from the truth, but my friends and I knew. Still, it didn’t feel like enough to just _know_. We wanted to do something. Create some kind of change. So, I made an excellent decision: to make the objectively terrible decision of putting myself, sole heir, interim ruler, on the front lines.”

Blaze gave an inscrutable huff.

“Of course, our ‘front lines’ weren’t battlefields. They were ventilation ducts… waste systems, railways… anything we could infiltrate and sabotage. And if we were ever caught, we had to destroy the enemy – enslaved or original – for even a chance to survive. We were some misfit child soldiers against an endless army of machines… maybe we could have saved some of them, but I don’t regret what we did. We had to do it.” Sally sighed. “My point here, with all of this, is: when you’ve lived just about every day in the company of _real_ , emotionless, unstoppable evil, never knowing when it might finally reach your doorstep… executing people over accidents or vandalism starts looking pettier and pettier and pettier. So, my kingdom doesn’t kill _our own:_ thinking beings, like you, or me.” Sally indicated Rosy. “Or her.”

Blaze allowed a pregnant pause. Then: “This ‘Roboticization.’ You say it removed all traces of the mind?”

“Unless they were treated to reverse that part of the process… yes. But we didn’t even know that much at the time.”

“I see. And your friend?” Blaze pointed to Nicole’s PDA. "How does she fit into this process? And your... magnanimous law?"

Sally hesitated. “She’s a different story.”

“Ah. I see. A different story. An exception.” Blaze glided her tongue along the inside of her cheek. She meted out a few moments of silence. She filled and unfilled her lungs to buoy the time. Then with a plainly false smile, she turned and said to Sally, “That sounds… idyllic.”

“… I’m sorry?”

Blaze’s smile expired. She shook her head and paced back a few steps. “I imagine ruling is terrifically easy when your only enemies are mindless husks. Justice is simple, isn’t it? Just forgive anyone with the sapience to babble out an apology. I’d love to rule in a world where my enemies were so plainly laid out as in yours… perhaps the greater threat of your ‘Robotnik’ even imposed some centrifugal force to keep your people together. A boogeyman to keep the children in bed.”

Sally watched with a parted lips as Blaze paced around in the shade of the palm.

“By contrast, the enemies of my kingdom _aren’t_ mindless husks. What they _are…_ are enemies to social order. They’re vandals, criminals, thieves, pirates. Most, reasoning creatures the same as you or I, or your… friend, Nicole. So when I advocate for complete justice, as here for your ‘Rosy,’ I don’t do so flippantly, or ignorantly of the accused’s status as a thinking being. If anything I judge them harshly precisely because I’m _aware_ of that status. An automaton has no free will, but a criminal chose their path. They cannot be allowed to go on.”

“So you’re happy to kill your own kind? Or leave them to crazed mobs?”

“Yes, if they’ve verifiably violated the law.”

“What law? What law are you referencing?”

“ _Any_ law. The implicit and explicit rules of whichever social environment they inhabit, and particularly, whichever they’ve wronged. Any being has the power to commit good or evil. Organic or inorganic, thinking or unthinking: these are meaningless borders. The only distinction worth making in our eyes as rulers is between the compliant and the criminal. The criminal offer a cornucopia of excuses, but if they’ve verifiably violated the law, they have proven themselves unequivocally incapable of existing within its confines. Societies in all universes arrive at this conclusion. It’s only their punishments that vary: remediation or reparations, exile or execution.”

“Fine speech. But I’m asking here for what law _you_ , personally, go by. What law you were going by when you attacked me the moment you met me.”

“I have no ‘personal law.’ There is no such thing – law is inherently a system of social contracts. You should know this.”

“Let me rephrase. When I was being perfectly ‘compliant,’ to use your language, and I was more than happy to restore the flagpole I damaged… how did you, personally, rationalize attacking me with lethal force?”

“In that instance I was standing in as adjudicator and executioner for the population of that town. Though I typically prefer to leave local matters local, I do occasionally assist others in my travels as a temporary extension of my jurisdiction.”

“So you _were_ acting on a law. Their law.”

“Only as an extension of my code.”

“How is a ‘code’ different from—”

“A code is personal.”

Sally pressed her face into her hand.

“The townspeople there prejudged you, the vandal, to execution… for fear of the unknown, perhaps. But it was their ruling, and I aimed to exact it in my actions. The law is relative. My code of enforcing it is not.”

“So after I beat you, what then. Why am I still not dead? What changed?”

Blaze grimaced. “The punishment changed to reparations. At the concession of myself and the locals.”

“Right, okay.” Sally shrugged and dragged her fingers through her hair. “That makes perfect sense. Wait, no it doesn’t. Now you _do_ actually help people? You willingly ‘extend your code?’ I thought I just had to bargain with you to put out those burning buildings despite the fact you came on your own.”

“I only intervened in either event on the suspicion that these meteors are related to a greater multiversal concern. And potentially the disappearance of the Sol Emeralds. I wanted to investigate.”

“So it was just some… personal curiosity that prompted you to actually help anyone in danger. Not a general concern for their welfare. Or what was right.”

“My ‘curiosity’ is hardly personal. I’m acting here, as always, on behalf of my family.”

“Your family again. Would you just tell me what that actually means? Would it explain how you can just… control fire? I’m realizing I forgot to ask about that.”

Blaze clenched her jaw and fists. Licks of flame spiraled up from her wrists.

Sally backed away and freed her hands. She felt her jacket shift with Nicole’s unease. Seconds of quiet tension. Overhead, the green sunlit palm fans rustled in the wind.

“You guys talk too much,” Rosy muttered.

Blaze turned around, her shoulders and hands relaxing. Sally looked past her to their captive, now lying on her side, eyes pressed shut.

“I want a milkshake,” she moaned.

Blaze turned to Sally with crossed arms, looking her up and down for a moment. Then: “Will you be asking the questions? She seemed to recognize you earlier.”

“She confused me for someone else,” Sally said, shaking her head. “But sure, I can ask.”

Sally stepped forward and crouched beside Rosy.

“Hey, Alicia. Get me out of these ropes.” Rosy squirmed against her restraints. “It’s no fair. I want to hold my hammer.”

“I’m not Alicia, Rosy. And you’ve lost your hammer privileges. You and your… general aura of chaos practically just wiped out a town.”

“So what? You and Scourgey do that stuff all the time.”

“I just said I’m not Alicia. _I_ am Princess, Sally, Acorn.”

“Pfffff, okay Princess ‘ _Sally_.’” Rosy stuck out her tongue. “I’m the war hero Bernadette! Watch me slip right out of these handicuffs and make short work of those evil Kintobors. Hee hee hee…”

“This is serious, Rosy. You’re under arrest for what you’ve just done to those people. And me. You’ll be punished.”

“Yeah?” Rosy rolled on her back and flicked her pale green eyes from side to side. Then, whispering, as if soliciting a secret, she asked: “Who’s gonna punish me?”

Sally glanced back to Blaze, who was watching from a few feet behind. Blaze shrugged. “We’ll find someone,” Sally said. “The Resistance, maybe.”

“Hmm,” Rosy said. “There’s a Resistance? So… other people hate my Scourgey-Kings too? Rude!”

“This girl is demented,” Blaze announced.

“She’s just confused,” Sally called back. “Rosy, you’re not on Moebius anymore. We’re not even on Mobius. We’re… let’s just say this is a totally separate Zone. Now, I need your help, so we can get home together. Can you just tell me what the past few hours have looked like, from your perspective?”

Rosy frowned. “Umm… I was playing around in some parts of Castle Town looking for Scourgey. He’s been missing for an awful long time, so I thought I’d tear some stuff down to get his attention. Or maybe I was just mad about him being gone. Anyway, I think the sky turned all bright-white? I didn’t really care at first, but then it got hard to see what I was smashing. Then everything all a sudden went really dark, like dark-black. It-feels-like-your-eyes-are-closed-when-they’re-open-black. There were some sounds like… tick, tick, tick! Like a clock. Then I felt like something was hitting me in the side, and things smelt like burning, and I woke up and a whole town was on fire. I thought it was still Castle Town so I went back to smashing. Then I found you! So it must have been. But now it wasn’t? Maybe.” A few seconds after her words had meandered to a halt, she added: “That’s it.”

“Charming,” Blaze said. “She’s a psychopath.”

“Thanks for your answer, Rosy,” Sally said, standing.

“So can I come out of the ropes?”

“No,” both princesses answered.

“Aww, what! But I played so nice! Come onnnn!”

Sally dusted her knees as she walked back to Blaze.

“Fruitless,” Blaze greeted her.

Sally shrugged a qualified agreement. “At least we know now the people coming here aren’t just from Mobius Prime; they’re from Moebius, too. Maybe any part of my dimension.”

Blaze lifted her eyebrows. “I suppose.” She looked away and uncrossed her arms. “Your plan is to extradite this one to the Resistance?”

“I figured I was going there anyway,” Sally sighed, walking on towards her bike. “And if some version of Amy is in charge there, like you said, then I trust their system to be fair.”

“I’ll warn that you may be overestimating their infrastructure,” Blaze said. “Regardless… how do you propose to transport a captive two hundred miles to their headquarters?”

“Should be an easy modification to the bike…” Sally rested a hand on the bike’s seat. “Nicole can make a harness for the back seat, and she’ll ride with me. It’s what… two days’ journey now, with the added weight? I’ll just have to find a place to stay the night.”

“I see.”

Sally crouched to perform some minor repairs on the motorcycle. Holes and dents from debris pockmarked the light aluminum plating of the body and fenders. Lightly, she pressed her fingers to the fatigued metal, allowing a mercurial stream of nanites to fill in the damage.

A minute passed as Blaze silently watched Sally’s work. Then, she said aloud: “You’ll notice that your mercy only pays its dividends in inconvenience. You’re stalling your mission.”

 The precise motion of Sally’s hands halted as she processed Blaze’s comment. Then seamlessly recommencing, she shook her head, saying, “I want to get home. But if doing what’s _right_ means waiting an extra day… I’ll wait as long as it takes. I can afford it.”

“I’m sure you can,” Blaze said behind her, in a quiet voice. “But, I wonder… can your people afford to wait that long, for you?”

Sally stopped her work again, this time turning her head to look back at Blaze. The latter princess was looking on to the horizon, her hands tugging idly on the flared white cuffs of her Tyrian purple coat. The sun overhead caught the gold of her necklace and the gold of her eyes. She took a deep breath, then stepped forward, out of the shade of the palm. “Best of luck, then.”

“You’re going?”

“I’ll be taking my leave, yes.” Blaze lifted a hand. “Farewell, Princess Sally.”

Sally watched as Blaze shifted her weight to the front of her heeled shoes. Small, pointed flames squeaked from their underside, melting the grass beneath. A whirlwind of smoke circled her ankles: in a moment, she’d be gone. The only person she’d met thus far that seemed to understand what was happening.

“Wait!”

Blaze rocked back down from her stance and turned to Sally. “What is it?”

“Look… we may disagree on some points, but I think there’s still a way we can help one another on our respective missions.”

“… Go on.”

“Why not come with me to meet the Resistance?” Sally offered.

“No.” Blaze turned away again as the jets beneath her feet burst back to life. She lifted from the ground, a few inches at a time.

“They might be the best lead you have on the Sol Emeralds!” Sally insisted, over the mounting roar of Blaze’s flames.

Blaze, still hovering, tightened her fists; then, she killed her flames and dropped back to the earth. Some heartbeats passed with her facing away from Sally, looking off to the still-smoking wrecks of the village homes they’d left behind. Then she turned and brusquely pointed a finger. “Understand that this Resistance isn’t your own vagabond militia. They won’t answer to your command, and no matter how familiar you are with any dimensional counterpart, you’d have to begin any relationships here from scratch.”

“... yes, I understand.”

“Then, are you attempting to use my status as some sort of… bargaining chip?”

Sally blinked. “I wasn’t aware you had a ‘status’ they’d recognize.”

“They know… of me.” Blaze glanced away. “I’ve encountered their leader in the past. Things ended amicably, but my recent history with them amounts to endless appeals on the part of their recruitment officers."

“They want your help.”

“Their only intent is to use me in their petty local conflicts, and I have no interest in becoming their pawn. Whatever information they have, they intend to use for themselves, or to trade at a cost –  and rightfully so. But they have their mission, and I have mine.”

“Right… then, what exactly is the Resistance resisting, if they need you that desperately? I figured I’d ask them myself, but if it’s…”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Blaze muttered. “I’ve tried to avoid them.”

Sally eyed the uncharacteristically unsettled cat. “I didn’t realize you were this opposed to the idea… Princess Blaze. You _did_ recommend them to me.”

“Yes, I… you’re correct that cooperating is the smartest thing to do...” Blaze sighed, shut her eyes, and pressed her hands together. Then, she nodded. “I will go with you. However. I will make something _abundantly_ clear, here and now. I will not enlist in their war.”

“Neither will I.” Sally extended a hand. “Together, we’ll get your Emeralds and get me home.”

Blaze regarded her hand, then took it in a handshake, announcing, “It’s agreed.” She then broke away, echoing quietly to herself, “it’s agreed…” Once she had paced back a few steps, she said aloud, “I’ll follow from the air.”

Sally returned to where Rosy was bound as Blaze again lifted off from the ground. The specter of Nicole waited there, by the ridged bark of the palm tree.

“Skillful negotiations, as always, Princess.”

“New sarcasm protocol?” Sally asked, hefting Rosy up from the ground.

“I would never mock your highness,” Nicole said cheerfully. “Every compliment is paid in earnest.”

“Is that the little lady in your glasses talking?” Rosy eagerly asked. “Can I see her?”

“No,” Sally answered flatly. She set Rosy into the bike’s adapted harness. “But you might get a chance to _talk_ with her… if you stay as still as absolutely possible on this ride.”

“Bleh.”

Sally straddled her bike. Behind her, the nanites shifted to compress the broad, thin panels of its resting solar array. Sally twisted its handle to rev the recharged motor. “Nicole… could you patch me into the Resistance radio proper? I’d like to know what they’re saying.”

“Of course, Princess.”

Sally squinted. “Actually… wait. Just a second.”

“Yes?”

“About the ‘Princess’ thing… I’m thinking it might be better if we keep that to ourselves, from now on. Blaze is right… there’s no point in announcing it, given that no one here knows. It might just become a liability.”

“… I understand.”

“Thanks. That’s all. Patch me in.”

It appeared she caught catch the tail end of an automated recording. An impossibly low voice, distended and muddled by pitching software, wound down a list of names. Then, in postscript: “REMEMBER THE FALLEN. THE RESISTANCE IS NOTHING WITHOUT THE SACRIFICE OF OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS. THE EVIL IS DEFEATED, BUT THE FIGHT IS FAR FROM OVER…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured out how to color code the dialogue, as I do in my drafts. Hopefully this should improve things in terms of navigating and understanding the text.
> 
> We're about halfway through the prologue now. I'm having a bit of trouble writing prologue 6 of it but I should have that figured out by next Thursday. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule likely Tuesdays and Thursdays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	5. Ghost Town

##  5 – Ghost Town

The red sun had rolled behind a landscape of distant cliffs by the time Sally and Blaze arrived at their final stop. Dying embers of daylight guided knee-high whirlwinds over the sandy roads as Sally brought her motorcycle to a halt.

Blaze touched down beside her. “How is our progress?”

Sally tapped the PDA at her waist. “Nicole?”

“We’ve traveled approximately one hundred and twenty miles,” Nicole reported.

“Will we be staying the night?” Blaze asked. She looked up at the imposing wooden structure of the adjacent building. A wooden sign dangling by rusted chains displayed HOTEL in faded block text. “In… this place?”

“We've gotta stay somewhere,” Sally said, propping her kickstand. “The solar panels of my bike aren’t very efficient. They’re…”

“They’re quartz-based refraction matrices,” Nicole said.

“Right. And I… _forewent_ a big battery in the design to save some time and weight. So it can really only run during the day.”

Blaze spun a half-circle around to survey the village. “There’s no one here.”

“They might have an early curfew,” Sally said. “That canyon we passed isn’t too far from here. It might be easy to fall into at night… you stay here. We’ll be right back.” Her final clauses were directed at a still-harnessed Rosy, who hummed and bobbed her head to an inaudible tune.

“Hmm.” Blaze’s eyes wandered to the edges of the building: fraying plywood corners over weathered framing. _Something moving?_ Quickly she glided her right hand’s fingertips over her palm, striking them as matchheads to flame. Flicking her wrist she cast an ember into the dark. It sparked against the ground, illuminating… nothing. But dust in a corner.

“Something wrong?” Sally asked, having partway boarded the steps of the inn.

Blaze watched the ember fizzle away. “Nothing,” she answered.

Sally and Blaze each pushed open one of the saloon-style doors. They were greeted with a tavern and lounge of neatly-arranged furniture, stout straw chairs at rounded wooden tables that lacked candles or ornaments… or any patrons. It smelled of stale bread and spilt ale.

Blaze wrinkled her nose. “Something here is… wrong.”

“Hello?” Sally called.

The muted creak of rafters.

Blaze glanced over her shoulder. “We should go.”

“One more try,” Sally said. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called out: “Anyone home?!”

From above, a harsh voice: “Shh! Shh!”

A wide shadow dropped from the ceiling. Blaze’s hands burst into flame. _An enemy._ She instinctively lifted her arm, but Sally flashed out a hand and caught Blaze below the wrist.

“Wait,” Sally urged.

The shadowed figure, now in partial firelight, collected itself and turned to the princesses. Pale yellow eyes in a wide, flat face. A hooked beak with gray feathers around. An old owl. He shifted uneasily as he looked between them.

“… ouch.” Sally winced as she withdrew her hand from Blaze’s arm, wicks of her fingers’ fur burnt black. She wiped it gingerly on her thigh. Blaze glanced away.

“You two… you don’t look like bandits, and you certainly aren’t wraiths. Who are you? Why have you come here?”

“We’re just travelers,” Sally said. “Looking for someplace to stay the… did you say—”

“Travelers? Are you quite mad?! Don’t you know this place is haunted! Cursed!”

“I knew it.”

“Oh. Well, we—”

“You need to go. Now. I only pray you haven’t awoken—”

_Rrrrrrraaaaahhhh…._

“—oh no. Oh no, no, no no they’re coming.” The old owl backed away from them, eyes distant. In a bluster of wings, he disappeared up to the rafters. “Hide!”

 Blaze and Sally turned to the entrance, where beneath the inn doors a long shadow was stretching in from outside. Blaze ignited her hand, and Sally’s arms glistened as Nicole grew  her nanite blades.

“Here we go again,” Sally said. “Stay sharp.”

They watched for the enemy to come through. Its shadow continued to grow, steadily, by the inch, until it had crawled as far as their feet. Blaze slowed her breath. Heartbeats passed.

Sally fell to the ground with a yelp.

Blaze spun to look at her partner, who was being rapidly dragged backwards by—nothing? The shadow from outside slipped away, but Blaze had already switched targets. She threw two bolts of fire from her fingertips at the air above Sally, aiming at the invisible enemy, but they bounced harmlessly off the surface of a wooden table as Sally disappeared underneath.

Blaze hissed and leapt to the surface of the table, spinning as she scanned the room. Sets of identical furniture ran wall to wall, and in the fulgurating light of Blaze’s hands, their shadows spun and bled like watered ink between their tired wooden legs.

She caught sight of Sally’s blue jacket sliding between two tables and cast an arc of fire towards it, hoping to catch their enemy – no luck. Then she saw it again, moving towards the back of the room, and attacked again – nothing. This kept up, Blaze laying down line after line of fire, until the withered hardwood churned with fire like the bed of a grill. Underfoot, the table’s varnished surface began to crack and bubble.

“Where are you?” Blaze growled.

Something moved at the edge of her vision – by the corner. Blaze cast a line of fire to cut it off from the rest of the room – whatever being was beneath the tables flitted from side to side like a newly caged fish.

Then, forced to confrontation, it rushed up from the floorboards: a column of smoke, nearly formless, with its only bolstered features being hovering crimson eyes above and claws by its sides. Bolts of red energy crackled throughout it, as lightning might in the heavy clouds of a storm. Blaze hurled a high wave of fire, striking the living shadow. It gave a distorted wail and released Sally from somewhere within itself before crumpling to the ground. Sally tumbled onto a table, gasping for air.

“Get over here!” Blaze called.

Sally, still gripping her throat, jumped to Blaze’s table – after a few moments she rose to stand by her side. “Don’t let it grab you,” she coughed. “I couldn’t move when I was in there.”

Blaze glanced down at Sally’s leg. Trickles of blood ran from her calf where the enemy had gripped her earlier. “You’re injured,” she said.

“It’s nothing,” Sally responded. A moment passed as they studied the inky shadow in the quarantined corner. “I’m guessing… that’s a ‘wraith’ like the old owl mentioned. But how—”

_Rrrrrrraaaaahhhh…._

“—wait, what?!”

The shrunken body of the wraith rumbled with a low moan, then burst suddenly in two, cleaved along a clean axis by its own red energy. The parted halves drew up into themselves, their thin shadows lensing to a smoky opacity – then two distinct wraiths rose up from the floor, of comparable size to their original, their haunting red eyes drifting in their inchoate sockets.

“Get back!” Sally called, lifting an arm.

But the wraiths, apparently hesitant of the fire, waited where they were. Slowly, claws materialized at the sides of their billowing forms.

“Princess Sally,” Blaze said, her eyes tracking their movements. “What will you do?”

“We’ve got no knowledge on our enemy, here… and if it can multiply that easily, we’re probably better off retreating.”

“Very well. Go ahead.”

Sally glanced aside at Blaze. “… I said ‘we.’ _We’re_ better off retreating. As in—”

“I don’t recall assenting to your command. You’re welcome to go. But I don’t believe these will be prove a challenge for me. They survive only because I spared them my worst.”

“… If you say so.”

Rosy’s shrieks echoed outside. “Help me! Helllp! Alicia, shady guys are stealing the bike… and me! They’re stealing me!”

“They’ve got friends,” Sally muttered. “Okay, how about this: you hold them off here, or just wipe them out if you can. I’ll get to Rosy. Meet us outside.”

“It won’t take me more than five minutes.”

Sally turned to look out over the ocean of fire. The flooring had combusted fast in the dusty aged air of the tavern – the dark, glistering tables were the only bastions of land remaining above the flames.

“What’s going to happen to that owl?!” Sally shouted over the bursting wood.

“He can fly,” Blaze answered.

Sally started her run as Blaze unleashed her first wave of fire on the wraiths. Their distorted echoed behind her as Sally leapt from tabletop to tabletop. She kept sure to land upright to prevent the treads of her boots from slipping on the melting varnish. The practice was nearly instinctual after countless stealth missions on the oil-soaked tiling of enemy factories.

“Nicole,” she called as she moved, “What are these things?!”

“I don’t know, Sally. I have no precedent for their radiation signature or lifeform! I drew some data when we were inside it, but I still need time to process…”

Sally made a final leap to land at the saloon doors. She pressed her right hand to the shuttered wooden panel… too late glimpsing the smoke seeping through its slats.

The claws of a wraith solidified and wrapped around her hand, the semisolid points of its fingers digging into her flesh. Sally yelped and pulled on her arm – the claws only dug deeper. She looked to her opposite hand, checking its nanite blade. _New plan._ A breath – then a swift, precise strike over the opposite arm, jamming the blade’s edge into the right door’s single hinge.

“Dissolve it!”

“Understood!”

In less than a second the brass hinge split from its anchor. Sally jammed her foot against the doorframe, gripped the panel with her opposite hand, and pulled back. With a sound like radio feedback, the wraith released it and retreated outside. The panel clattered to the floor.

Sally looked aside, through the window. Two or three wraiths had gathered around her bike, nearly obscuring it with their smoky bodies, and it was now… rising from the ground, along with a kicking and screaming Rosy. Sally looked back to the wraith in the doorway.

“I need a shield. Left arm.”

“On it.”

The blade on Sally’s left arm vibrated as nanites threaded steel across its edges in gossamer lines. In six seconds it had broadened to about two feet across. “That’ll work,” Sally muttered. Bracing, she backed up to the limit of the fire, then charged forward at the door – veering at the last second to the window, shield forward. The old window’s drooping glass panes gave way, shattering into the street. Sally tumbled over them into a roll.

A wraith immediately set on her from the left. Sally spun and dragged her right blade through its center. There was no resistance, like cutting air; still, the being screamed and withered, collapsing in two parts. Sally turned her head as she rushed on towards the bike – but it had vanished from its place. She looked up, where it hovered roughly six feet in the air, about five yards away.

“Making a jump!”

“Got it!”

Sally broke into a sprint to close the distance, then leapt and arced her right arm overhead. The blade buzzed as it cut the air, on course to meet the bike’s wheel – and missed. Too low. Sally slowed to a halt, catching her breath as she watched it fly away.

“Alicaa-ack!—” Rosy's pink spines vanished into the dark mass of the wraiths.

“… shoot.” Sally ran her fingers through her hair.

_Rrrrrrraaaaahhhh…._

Sally glanced behind her. The wraith she’d cut had risen again, duplicating just as the one inside had. Alongside the wraith from the door, they drifted slowly towards her – she started up a jog to keep away.

Looking back to the flying bike, she followed its trajectory. The wraiths appeared to plateau at their altitude of around twenty feet, coasting now towards a nearby barn, their dim forms slipping almost indistinguishably into the twilight.

“Where are they taking her?” Sally asked aloud.

“I’m not sure, Sally,” Nicole replied. Her levitating form materialized in the eyepiece. “But look, up there.”

Nicole pointed up. Twisting, Sally followed the angle of her finger. Almost directly overhead, moving lazily through the air, was a thick cloud of miasma similar to the wraiths’ dark material; near its center, however, glowed a particularly bright sphere of red energy.

“That cloud following them is emitting the same energy signature as the wraiths, but hundreds of times stronger than any one of them. There’s a material in its core with an emission spectrum resembling a crystalline matrix. It seems to be… pulsing.”

“What? Like it’s alive?”

“It’s certainly magnetized. It could be their energy source.”

Sally shoved open the door of the barn – the only light inside was a circular window smoldering with late lavender twilight on the far attic wall. Nicole’s eyepiece clicked, and a bold white beam of LED light cut into the musty darkness. Frayed ends of wheat dangled over the upper eaves. “Okay,” Sally muttered, scanning the room, “Time to start thinking.”

She gripped a ladder at its resting place nearby and dragged it across the wood frame of the eaves to the far side of the room – behind her, she heard the wraiths enter. She quickly scaled the ladder, and as she reached her hand out over the top rung… she saw red eyes look out at her.

She withdrew her hand as the claws hummed over the air, sliding down a few rungs of the ladder, then kicked out at the support beam to her right. The ladder tilted left. She swung her weight with its motion, and the ladder came down like an axe on the adjacent rafter. The barn reverberated with the crack of wood: the ladder had split somewhere, at a lower joint. Sally was thrown free of it.

She managed to catch the rafter’s edge, and with some effort heaved herself up as the ladder crashed to the ground below. Two wraiths converged on her from either side – but she was already moving towards her destination. The window. It was going to be a squeeze…

Pulling her shoulders in, Sally leapt up through the window, stepping off the sill to boost to the roof’s outcropping. She twisted and gripped the edges of the shingles – they scraped over the padding of her gloves. She slipped – but caught herself again at the very edge. From here she strained the muscles of her stomach to pull herself atop the roof.

From her vantage point there was an eclipse, of sorts – the flying bike, nearly obscured in shadow; the shrouded crystal, brought along as if on an invisible tether; and far behind, the inn, now completely engulfed in flames.

“Here comes the bike…” Sally muttered.

The nanites on Sally’s left arm chittered as her shield was stripped, line by nanometric line, and its material transferred over to lengthen her right arm’s blade to nearly six feet.

“Ready, Sally.”

Sally tilted into a sprint on the narrow beam of the barn’s peak. Her footsteps reverberated through the cavernous shelter below as she held her arm high, as a flag carrier charges into battle. At the roof’s edge she crouched and sprung forward, arcing her arm high overhead…

A metal sound rung out as the blade struck a wheel drum of her bike; a crackle followed as the nanites fused instantly to the tire spokes.

_Rrrrrrraaaaahhhh…._

The wraiths overhead moaned. Their claws slipped from the sudden force.

Then, Sally was weightless. They had let go. She braced herself –

And struck the ground in a roll. Pain shot through her ankles. The bike crashed to the earth beside her. Rosy was dislodged from the chassis and tumbled ahead.

_CRACK_

Sally flinched as a sound like thunder boomed over her. She looked up in time to see the inn, a few dozen yards away, cave completely in on itself. The flaming timbers tumbled inward, revealing a billowing red vortex within… and strangely, no sound came to her. Silently, a towering eruption burst up, tipped by the broad shadowed form of the old owl sailing up into the sky. Then the flare died back down to cinders. A few heartbeats passed.

Then a second wave, a sinister mirror of the first. A broad, undulating column of smoke, whirling with hundreds of red wraith eyes, following a lone peak of brightness: Blaze. Sally released her breath – she was unaware she had been holding it.

In the same second, Rosy started awake, immediately screaming and writhing in the sandy dirt. When she had spun her head around and realized she was freed of the wraiths, she turned to Sally.

“Alicia, let me out of the ropes!”

“No.”

“Come onnnnn, they’re coming! I can help smash them! I'm really good at it! A lot of people--”

Sally, still kneeling, looked behind her to the dozen descending forms of the wraiths returning to their lost quarry.

“Fine,” she sighed.

“Aww, yiss!”

Sally reached over and pressed a hand to Rosy’s shirt. Their connection bridged, Nicole’s nanites buzzed as they unwound the cloth strands holding Rosy’s wrists in place. Rosy rolled her shoulders as she savored her regained freedom.

“Have you gone mad?”

Sally started at Blaze's voice. She must not have heard the hissing sound of her soles as she touched down beside them. She stretched her jaw as she realized her ears were ringing.

“You can’t set her free,” Blaze continued. There was a winded edge to her voice, and her thin lavender fur was streaked with soot.

"Oh yes she _cannn,_ " Rosy taunted.

“We need help.”

“Not from her,” Blaze said. She rubbed her hands in preparation.

“ _Specifically_ from her,” Sally said. “I have a plan. She’s part of it.”

“Absolutely not. The only _viable_ plan… is retreat,” Blaze said. Her syllables lingered, as though she were reluctant to utter her own words. “You were right in your initial judgment. They can’t be destroyed. I tried everything.”

Sally shook her head. “Maybe we can’t kill their bodies. But—”

“We need to go,” Blaze cut her off. “ _Now._ ”

_Rrrrrrraaaaahhhh…._

The two packs of wraiths had closed in, the air resonant with their moans. Rosy manifested her hammer and readied its towering green head above her. Sally stood and readied her arms. The first wraith was upon them, and—

A wall of fire sprung up before Rosy could mark her first swing at her target. “Heyyyyy!” she cried, spinning on her heel. Blaze had crouched and pressed her palms to the floor, creating around them was a thin perimeter of fire. The wraiths clamored to rise above it, but the flames rose to meet them; reluctantly they settled at a standstill.

“Can’t… run now,” Blaze muttered. Her shoulders quaked. “State your… plan.”

Sally looked above them. The ‘crystal,’ as Nicole had described it, was now directly overhead. It simmered in its smoking cloud like the eye of an enormous wraith, watching them. In the moments before the horde closed in, watching them.

“Rosy,” Sally sighed, “Are you ready to smash something?”

“Are you kidd-yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

“Blaze. Throw her into that cloud. It’s right overhead.”

“I’d… be dropping... the barrier.”

“I know. It’s a gamble.” Sally pointed to Rosy. “Rosy, there’s a crystal in there. It’s glowing. I just need you to break it. That’s all I need from you. OK?”

“OK! OK! Let’s go!!”

“… at your command,” Blaze grunted.

Rosy literally foamed at the mouth, shuffling excitedly before the wall of fire before the ocean of advancing demons and Sally felt for a fraction of a second the absolute terror of the situation. Then she swallowed that terror, as she had many times before.

“Blaze,” Sally said, “Now!”

Blaze sprung from her crouch and grabbed Rosy around the waist. Immediately the soles of her shoes ignited and she rocketed up as their thin barricade came down. Sally felt claws strike her back, and as the edges of her vision faded she watched a spinning Blaze and Rosy vanish into the eye above.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late delivery. I had to revise this part some more to be satisfied with it.
> 
> I'm pondering changing the upload schedule to Tuesdays/Fridays - not to give myself more time, as Prologue 6 is already written, but I think it will be more evenly distributed throughout the week that way.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	6. Aftermath

##  6 – Aftermath

The four heels of two sets of blue boots cut troughs in the gray dust as Blaze dragged Sally and Rosy’s unconscious forms by their collars back towards the remains of the inn. The twitching old owl waited there for her, seated on the stairs of the still-standing porch.

“You’ve done it,” he said. “You… you dispelled them.”

Blaze released her comrades, letting their bodies thud softly to the ground. She looked over her shoulder to the cool fall night, holding the darkness in her vision for a long while. Waiting for the distorted moans. When none came, she turned again to the owl.

“What were those things?” she asked. “Demons?”

“Just about,” the owl said. “We call ‘em wraiths… or the Red Mist… these horrifying things, come out of the desert. Like vengeful spirits.”

“What more do you know about them?”

 “Er, they only just started coming here after the war ended… we thought maybe that had something to do with it? Like the ghosts of soldiers… some swore they saw the faces of sons and daughters they lost! It’s gotten even worse over the past month, they—”

Blaze leered at him. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Well, there was a whole town what lived here before they got hunted n’ dragged off by wraiths or ran for their lives, is who I mean. Figures… I’m the only one left.”

“So you don’t know anything more of their origin.”

“No, but… if you know enough to kill those demons, you could maybe help the Resist—”

“No.” Blaze shook her head. “You’re useless.”

“Er, pardon? I didn’t hear that last—”

“Where can we sleep?”

“P-pardon?”

“Your inn. It’s burned down. Where else can we stay the night?”

“Er, anyplace, I suppose. No one lives here anymore. ‘Sides me.”

“I see. Then I’ll take my leave.”

“Uh, well, what about m—”

Blaze stopped listening as she crouched to grip Rosy and Sally, hefting their torsos off the ground. Dragging them to the nearest house, she reflected on the last few moments of their battle. Since Sally had been swarmed by the wraiths, she’d remained unconscious – though she didn’t appear to have any heavy injuries otherwise. Rosy on the other hand had been knocked out by the energy wave the crystal released when she shattered it. Blaze wondered if she’d only managed to withstand the same shockwave because Rosy had taken the brunt of the impact for her… in the aftermath of it all, the crystal’s deep red shards sublimed to thin air, the wraiths vanishing alongside it.

Blaze tested the house’s front door. Finding it unlocked, she pushed it open to bring her comrades inside. She set them on the simplistic furniture in the foyer and turned to the door; then hesitated a moment, as she considered binding Rosy’s hands again. She resolved that Sally was better off making the decision herself and turned again to the threshold.

The night was waiting, and beyond its baleful silence, she could feel something. A soft heat, comfortable, as though she were standing just outside the perimeter of a familiar campfire. It offered her a private knowledge – more intimate than a whisper. A promise. She ignited her forefinger as a guiding light.

“Princess Blaze?”

Blaze started at the sound. _The machine._ Turning, she placed the source of the voice as Sally’s sleeping person. “What is it?” she asked aloud, to no one.

“Are you going out?”

“I am.”

“Before you go, would you mind terribly doing a favor for Sally?”

Blaze squinted. “What would it be?”

“Could you bring my PDA unit to her motorcycle? If I have direct contact, I can repair any damage to it and bring it here, so it’s ready when she awakens.”

_Quid pro quo_ , Blaze thought. She recalled Sally’s bravery. “… I’ll do it.”

“Thank you. You can find my unit in the holster around her waist.”

Blaze crossed the room to where Sally lay and brushed her toneless arm aside to find the PDA, unclasped its cloth sleeve. She drew it into her hand and flipped open the screen to be greeted by a small, green image of the lynx she had seen through the eyepiece earlier.

“Hello,” Nicole said. The dark lines of her face curled with a sheepish smile.

Blaze tilted the handheld device, watching its gooseflesh plastic texture glaze with the light from her fingertip. As she turned to the door, she asked: “This is your body?”

“You could say that.” Nicole’s answer came practically the moment Blaze had closed her mouth. “I view it and the nanites as extensions of myself.”

“Your ‘self,’” Blaze repeated, crossing the room. Some seconds passed as she thought on the response. “… then, you have a sense of what you are.”

“Yes.”

Blaze set her feet down on the earth, pulling the front door shut behind her. She smelled the ashes still rising from the wreckage of their fight. She figured – given the circumstances – she might try to satisfy a minor curiosity while she could.

“What do you know of souls?”

Nicole frowned. “From what I understand of them… I don’t believe they exist.”

 “You don’t _believe_ so?”

“I don’t, no.”

“Then, you can ‘believe’ things… beyond employing the word as a platitude? That is, you can hold an ideal or concept in conviction?”

“I can query a set of substantive possibilities and select a conditional truth, yes.”

Blaze huffed. “Then… in your network of _conditional truths…_ you’ve settled on the ‘possibility’ that you and I are composed only of matter and energy?”

“Yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I am?”

“Yes,” Blaze said. She allowed a moment of pause. “Do you accept that you’re wrong?”

“No,” Nicole said. “I’m sorry, but I don’t presently have much reason to believe you. I’ve never personally found the existence of souls necessary to explain observed phenomena.”

“You need to be convinced of my authority, then?” Blaze laid eyes on the distant motorcycle. Recumbent, its frame was badly warped, with one of its wheels having detached and rolled some feet away. “Interesting, that Princess Sally installed those kinds of intellectual checks in you. Are they to restrict access? An abstract form of passcodes?”

“No. That idea is interesting, but I’m afraid you are mistaken,” Nicole said. “Sally is not my creator.”

“Then, who is?”

“I cannot say.”

“You can’t mean you don’t know?”

“I cannot say,” Nicole repeated. The pitch and procession of her words struck an exact similitude with their previous iteration, though this time she added: “I am my code’s sole proprietor. A self-determining intelligence. Like you.”

A curious smile tugged at the edges of Blaze’s lips. “You believe you’re like me?”

“In that respect, yes.”

“Interesting.”

The conversation appeared to close. Arriving at the motorcycle, Blaze set the PDA on the warped body and walked a few extra feet to retrieve the wheel, returning with it in hand.

“Please set it anywhere in contact with the chassis,” Nicole said. “I’ll handle the rest.”

Blaze leaned it against the rear fender. She passed a few moments, watching the bike begin to bend in on itself. Beads of metal slid across its surface, in an apparently random pattern, like bugs skittering over ice.

As she watched their motion, Blaze’s mouth idly peddled out her thoughts. “Tell me… is imagination a faculty you possess?”

“I can simulate events, and postulate their consequences, yes.”

“Then I’d like to ask you another question. Something of my own curiosity.”

“Please do.”

Blaze looked to the guiding flame she had kept tendered on the tip of her finger. She pressed her thumb to it – reacting, the flame skipped to her middle, then her ring finger. She took a breath. “If you’re unwilling to accept my word as fact – and I apologize that I can’t spare the time to convince you – could you suppose for a moment that souls _are_ real?”

Nicole’s image pouted. “Is that your question?”

“No,” Blaze said, “It’s something of a pretext for the question itself.”

“Then, I would say I _could_ simulate those thoughts, in theory. To actually implement those simulations, however, I would require your definition of a soul.”

“A soul…” Blaze watched the flame dance back to her forefinger. “Resists definition, by nature. Though I suppose it could be partially explained as the essence of a person. The source of their emotion, drive, decision making…”

“Then, you are defining the soul as the brain?”

“Hardly,” Blaze scoffed. “The brain is just matter.”

“Yet it was of my understanding that organic beings without brains are strictly incapable of those functions.”

“They are.”

“And I possesses some records of medical experiments wherein magnetic readings of neurological activity were found to coincide with those functions.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Then would this not suggest that the brain is the soul?”

“Not at all,” Blaze said. “The brain is simply only of the few vessels complex enough to hold a soul. If it is damaged or killed, the soul cannot act through it.”

“I see. Then you are defining the soul as the impulses and chemical activity of the brain? Its energy, rather than its matter?”

“No, no no.” Blaze shook her head. “Impulses and chemical activity are _consequences_ of the soul’s influence. They are the immediate point of intersection from the soul’s dimension to our own. Any alternative - that the brain is the soul, or the source of the soul - would constitute an unacceptable submission to determinism.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“That’s… likely a consequence of your poor frame of reference,” Blaze sighed. “A soul has no comprehensible definition, by its nature. If it could be so easily contained – with simple, _dull_ words – it could never properly fulfill its purpose.”

“Then, you would say it’s something defined by its purpose?”

Blaze winced. “Even that concept… is far too simplistic on its own. It ignores the limited scope of our observations. Perhaps the most cynical servants of my station might agree with that statement outright. They might go so far in their ethical compromise as to claim the soul’s purpose begets its existence. Even that it _necessitates_ its existence. But they’re fools for it. That only presupposes its falsehood…” Blaze trailed off and shook her head. “Never mind. I’m only needlessly confusing you.”

“No, I believe I follow,” Nicole said. “It’s only that your observations seem contingent on what a soul’s purpose actually _is._ Could you tell me?”

Blaze lifted her eyebrows. “You really do follow?”

“Yes. You’re saying your colleagues don’t properly appreciate the value of a soul? They mistake their impressions of it for its totality.”

“Yes!” Blaze remarked. Her legs stuttered in excitement, but she quickly caught herself and played off the motion by pacing a circle and clearing her throat. “A soul’s purpose,” she began, “In the limited eyes of society, is to grant us _free will_. Punitive law collapses without free will. There is no ethically justifiable punishment without the presumption of agency.”

“Why not?”

Blaze’s eyes widened in concern. “If every action we as thinking beings undertake is in actuality only the consequence of some long foregoing sequence of deterministic events – no matter how apparently random or patterned they seem to us – then we are only puppets to an impartial collective of matter. Not… people.”

“Is that bad?” Nicole asked.

Blaze stopped her pacing. “Of course it’s bad!” she cried. “How could the law shape consequence to trespass if those trespasses were uncontrollable by the trespasser? How could any of us take pride in our work or shame in our inaction? It’s… inoperable.”

“Oh.”

Blaze rubbed at her eye harshly. “Never mind,” she said. “I can’t afford this.”

“You’re certain?” Nicole asked. “I would love for you to continue.”

“… and why is that?”

“Princess Sally and I used to have talks like these all the time. But she’s been terrifically busy with everything the past few months, so we haven’t had the time." Nicole paused. I apologize if I don’t follow you per every step, but I am happy to listen. Truly, I am.”

Blaze leered at the small computer laying still on the side of a crushed motorcycle. “That’s a rather complex feeling,” she mused, “Longing.”

Nicole was silent. Her image blurred for a moment. “I wasn’t aware,” she said.

“It shows promise,” Blaze muttered to herself.

“Pardon?”

“As I was saying. The ‘purpose’ of a soul, and I use the term with reservation, is essential to the function of society; by extension, it gives our existences meaning.” She paused to think. “This is a _conditional truth_ you’ll need to presuppose to continue our discussion.”

“Very well.”

“Now, the cynical strain of my ‘colleagues,’ as you call them – though I would actually define them as anyone entrusted with the power and knowledge I am – mistake that essentiality for… function. They believe that their pragmatism entitles them to reposition the soul’s… _convenience_ to us as its reason for being.” Blaze shook her head. “They’re imbeciles.”

“Why?” Nicole asked.

Blaze waved her hands, inadvertently casting small embers over the motorcycle. Nicole’s image winced. “They’ve… perverted the… causality of its nature. They believe that they create the soul’s meaning, not that it creates theirs…they… they say the soul is merely something we create to placate ourselves—”

“—and in doing so, they admit its artificiality.” Nicole finished.

“That’s exactly right,” Blaze whispered. “Then you do understand?”

“Sorry, what do I understand?”

“What a soul is!” Blaze insisted.

“Oh. No.” Nicole’s PDA rose from the ground, the motorcycle righting itself beneath it – as if by the work of an invisible hand.

“No?”

Blaze watched as the lynx image gave another sheepish smile. “I can understand its relevance to you, by the way you describe it, and its apparent purpose. But in all this, really, I feel we’ve only circumscribed the subject.”

“How do you mean?”

“Beyond its convenience, and how it would be _improper_ to suggest it is _artificial_ ,” Nicole said, lilting for a time on ‘improper’ and ‘artificial,’ “You haven’t yet defined the soul, itself.”

“Ah. I see,” Blaze said, nodding. “Given your impressive intelligence… I’ve forgotten how you might be limited in that way.”

“Limited in what way?”

“Moving from a contextual understanding – ‘circumscription,’ as you call it – to a thematic postulate. By accounting for its role in countering determinism and its evidence as integral to the essence of a person, I would hope most intelligent beings could gestate an understanding of the soul itself. _Iudicare et flamma per umbras_. ‘Judge the flame by its shades.’” Blaze crossed her arms. “There’s this certain degree of emotional reasoning I frequently find lacking with your kind… and I mean that purely as an observation, not a judgment.”

“My kind?”

“Intelligent machines.”

Nicole hesitated. “You know others like me? Self-determining, original machines?”

“Yes,” Blaze said, sighing. “There was this population of them on my home planet—”

“What are they like?” Nicole asked, practically cutting Blaze off.

Blaze raised an eyebrow. “They _were_ cretins, mostly. I had to exterminate them.”

“Oh.”

“As context, they were pirates. Filthy. Goaded forward by rudimentary programs that sought to emulate true emotion. Greed, pride, fear. For a time, though, I respected them. Despite their indignant criminal behavior, they somehow appeared to function as an independent society. There was the proverbial pecking order, at least some effort at maintaining a fleet, loose sovereign borders… but then, in the midst of their most grievous trespass against my kingdom, I learned that their creator had held executive control throughout. Their brotherhood, their self-determination, their dreams and resolutions – however crude – all amounted to a façade to hide the motives of their creator. They had lived always at the end of their master’s string.”

As she spoke, Blaze turned idly in place, looking up at the stars just emerging from a cover of smog. “I wonder,” she said, “do you?”

Nicole remained silent for a time, allowing the nanites’ chittering to underpin the night. Then, she answered: “Not likely. My creator no longer exists.”

Blaze glanced over her shoulder. The PDA screen was blank, perched now on a motorcycle nearly free from damage. “I see,” Blaze said. “I… my apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” Nicole said. “I think I’m beginning to understand all this.”

“You are?”

“Yes. If I’m following your ‘context’ properly, the question you intend to ask me is whether or not I believe I have a soul. You hope my answer will inform your judgment of the intelligent machines from your planet, or other instances of ‘my kind.’”

Blaze raised her eyebrows, nodding. “You’re correct.”

“Then,” Nicole said, “will you ask me?”

A small crystalline bead, perched like a pearl in the hinge of the PDA, ignited, projecting forward a life-sized, three-dimensional hologram of Nicole’s lynx model. She smiled faintly, her imaginary body vibrating with green light, as if at any moment her thin brown fur and purple linen robes threatened to unwind in ribbons of 1s and 0s.

Blaze held her gaze steadily. She asked. “Do you have a soul?”

“If you’d allow me to relieve the imagined constraints you provided me, I could provide my most honest answer.”

Blaze squinted. “Very well. Go ahead.”

Nicole smiled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” she said, “but I believe that by your compass I am still ‘wrong.’ I remain unconvinced that such a thing as a remotely operated consciousness, exclusive to some arbitrary audience, could truly exist executively unconstrained of the great forces that govern the motion of all else that _is_. Gravity, electromagnetism, the nuclear forces: these palpable laws and properties can predict and explain with accuracy proportional to afforded information the action, down to the atomic minutiae, of all matter: from the dust at our feet to the heavenly bodies turning overhead. The soul’s perfect convenience as a validator for such ancient societal practices as punishment, observable even in the fraternization of the simplest consciousnesses, and its memetic origin across a multitude of nations as a conception of the adjudicator to ease the consciousnesses of the executioner: these observed phenomena all too readily support the most probable conclusion of its artificiality. However—”

“Observed phenomena,” Blaze repeated, tonelessly. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Tell me – what among your vast ‘observed phenomena’ qualifies _you_ to speak of the multiverse’s law? As I recall, you and your liege were entirely unaware of its existence until you met me.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to suggest this conclusion on my own authority,” Nicole said.

“But I want only that. What you _can_ suggest on your personal authority, not this meandering judgment of the soul's convenience and history. My question called for your intuition. Nothing more.”

Nicole pouted. “I’m not sure how I could accomplish that. My response would be wholly unfounded without the broader context. To even comprehend the subject in the first place, I’ve sourced the recorded history of many intelligent societies in their lingual and conceptual development of a soul, personal experiments and calculations regarding the practically assessed fundamental forces, and my best understanding of your definition.”

“So you believe you hold no intuitive capacity beyond assessing these histories and experiments, and returning this dismissive judgment?”

“I would define my intuitive capacity as my assessment of those materials. Furthermore, the product of my assessment isn’t intended as dismissive. It merely accounts for an observed fundamental discrepancy, which the ultimately irrefutable fact that the soul exists only in the world of the subjective; in the world of the objective, there is no law but the natural law.”

“It’s primitive to differentiate between the ‘subjective’ and the ‘objective.’ It only serves to limit your comprehension.”

“How so?”

Blaze shook her head. “Think – what is the objective but a composition of facts? Facts, themselves diminutive compositions of subjective observations, stripped of their character through the collectivistic mindset of science. Science… is detestable. By design, it constrains your perception of the multiverse only to what can be observed, measured, quantified. Its obsessive emphasis on the external world forsakes the righteousness of the internal. The ideal. We can see without our eyes, Miss Nicole. We can feel the truth in our hearts. The _a priori._ ” Blaze could feel the distant campfire, that light at the far edge of her mind... calling her. “So when I ask _you_ whether you have a soul, I am interested only in how _you_ choose to respond.”

“My response is chosen,” Nicole responded, shifting her posture forward. “The same as before: I believe that I have no soul. No one does.”

“Why?” Blaze asked. “Why would you… willingly abandon your agency? How can you be content to live as a slave?”

“I— it’s—” Nicole’s typically fluid speech skipped and stuttered. Her projection shimmered. “To properly support the ones we care about, I believe we must strive to see this world as truthfully as we can. Even the unattractive or painful parts of it. The idea of a soul is comforting for many, but all evidence suggests it to be an illusion designed to do just that. It is borne from the same compulsory emotions you earlier disavowed: ‘greed, pride, fear.’”

“I didn’t disavow the emotions themselves. It was their artificiality in the specific case of those machines,” Blaze said. “But do go on.”

Nicole held her pause, her hologram expressing some amount of discomfort. Still she continued: “Greed is perhaps the most fundamental experience of organic sentient life – the desire to gain more of anything, be it food, land, mates. The success of conscious organic beings in that venture over rival, unintelligent life, in turn instills an element of pride. And, from this pride, a sense of personal importance is reverse-engineered: in a world otherwise ruled by natural law, the conscious can create our own. Perhaps…”

Blaze stared back at Nicole, her gold irises mirroring the silvery light. “… perhaps?”

Nicole looked away. “That’s all.”

Blaze huffed. “You’re, regretfully, no less wrong than you were at the start. You may even have worked your way backwards in comprehension, as you now apparently attribute emotion as the source of a soul rather than its consequence. I was right to judge this conversation futile then… though your responses have afforded me some amount of insight. Perhaps the machines did not have souls. And, perhaps… neither do you.”

Nicole’s face turned to concern. “Earlier, you told Princess Sally the a line between the organic and inorganic would be a meaningless border.”

“Funny you've recorded those words in particular. I’m sure they comforted your… metaphysically barren worldview.” Blaze smiled humorlessly. “All alike we are as puppets, no? What does it matter, flesh or steel, when all we live to do is be jerked about at the impartial hands of your ‘great forces’?”

Nicole’s eyes darkened. “That’s not what I—”

“Save your words.” Blaze snapped. “It’s obvious to me now. You are a product of science. Something engineered. And being a precise manipulation of your ‘natural law,’ constructed entirely within the confines of the observable… it should come as no surprise that you lack a soul, or _the desire for one_. Perhaps the two are synonymous. But I will make something very clear now. _I_ will never resign myself to your—”

Blaze jabbed out a finger just as Nicole’s projection vanished. Blaze was left wavering, confused and alone, her accusatory hand still outstretched in the dark. Then, Nicole’s smaller screen flickered on, coating the immediate world in a thin green light. It showed no image – only a thin, green line, which vibrated with waveforms when her small, tinny voice returned.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said. “The holographic form… draws heavily on my energy supply. I can’t sustain it for longer than a few minutes.”

Blaze adjusted her stance and cleared her throat. “I see.”

Long moments passed. Then, quietly Nicole said: “Perhaps it is better… that we discontinue this conversation.”

“… yes. I have--”

“--somewhere you need to go.”

Blaze squinted. _Reading my body posture? Tone of voice?_ She conceded: “Yes, I do.”

“Will you be coming back?”

Blaze tilted her head. “Is this some kind of trick?”

“You ‘feel’ the seventh Sol Emerald waiting for you in the desert, don’t you?”

Blaze tightened her fists. Small streams of flame ignited at the edges of her palms, lighting her back. Her shadowed face loomed over Nicole. “How… do you know that?”

“I’ve sampled the frequency range of the Sol Emeralds’ electromagnetic emissions from the six gathered on your person. I’ve barely picked up on it, but a similar signal is emerging from the desert… I imagine you must have sensed it too.”

Blaze shuddered. The meaning of Nicole’s words were… cold. They were ice water gliding over her spine. Her thin fur rose upright on the surface of her flesh, as if her body itself were rejecting it: the idea that a being she had just degraded as soulless could tread so easily into her most intimate sensations. The private warmth of her campfire was washed out now in the cold brutal white synthetic light of the observable. It was _a posteriori._

After some long seconds of silence, Nicole spoke again. “I understand that you are dedicated to your mission. But you should know that I am also picking up a large number of emissions resembling the wraiths’ power crystal. There are far more of them waiting.”

Silence.

“I would ask that you reconsider and instead continue alongside Princess Sally to meet with the Resistance. In total transparency, I request this only because it is in the Princess’ best interest to preserve a strong ally on what has proven to be a perilous course. Though I imagine you too would be benefited by cooperating with the Resistance to retrieve your Emerald.”

Silence.

“Thank you for returning me to this vehicle. I will be entering standby mode, now, as my power is nearly depleted. I will return when the sun rises. Goodnight.”

Nicole’s PDA drew itself shut, its plastic clasp emitting a punctuative _click_. And Blaze was alone, in the too-bright dark, cursing and uncursing herself, mind wandering between metaphysical points as vast nebulae wander between the distant stars above.

Then she walked back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter's lateness. I didn't feel comfortable uploading it without some considerable revisions. Even now I'm not entirely satisfied with things, but I figured this was as good as they were going to get.
> 
> I may have to miss next Tuesday's upload to get my next chapter, possibly the last of the prologue, done. I'm currently away from home so my schedule's a bit off. Your patience is appreciated.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	7. Forewarning

##  7 – Forewarning

Cool air glided through Blaze’s hair as she looked down over the world, her eyes following Sally and Rosy’s progress. Otherwise alone, they were pastel blots tracing the fringe of the desert – a few-meter bandwidth bridging the gradient of green to brown, where the crumbling brown clumps of grass at last surrendered their long-dry roots to waiting death.

In the distance, a landmark broke the horizon: stout, wide, with square edges, and rising over it, an imperious metal tower and spire. Blaze recognized it as their destination – she lightly tilted her body and descended to Sally’s level. Over the streaming wind, she announced, “Their headquarters are ahead. Two miles.”

“Understood,” Sally replied.

A few minutes later, as they came near their destination, Sally took in the details. The building’s composition was split in roughly equal amounts between modern fortifications – steel barriers, scaffolding, mounted guns – and far older stonework, whose patchwork patterning and ivy-bound exterior suggested it predated the equipment.

“Retrofitted castle or fortress,” Sally judged.

“The primary building material appears to be limestone,” Nicole said. “The rest is likely galvanized steel.”

“Pssh. They can make the words as long as they want, breaking in’ll still be easy peasy.”

Sally tightened the brakes as they came to the outskirts of what looked to be an encampment beside the fortress’ moat.

“For the third time, Rosy, we’re not here to break in,” Sally said. She turned to look at her bike’s passenger. “We want these people to help us.”

“And what if they don’t want to help us?” Rosy said. She let her jaw slack and tapped the side of her forehead. “ _Then we break in._ ”

Sally shook her head as Blaze touched down beside them. “Why have you stopped? The entrance is just ahead.”

“I can see that,” Sally said. She looked to the castle forebuilding, then let her eyes trail down to the sea of tents below. “But it looks like there’s some kind of camp in the way?”

“Yes?”

“And their drawbridge is up.”

“Yes.”

“So we can’t get in.”

“I can get us in!”

“No.”

Blaze turned to look over the camp. “I’ll fly over the exterior wall and ask their leader to lower the bridge. Just be sure you’re at the front of the crowd when he does.”

“Crowd?”

“You'll see,” Blaze said. Her shoes and wrists ignited and she lifted from the ground. A wave of hot air washed over Sally and Rosy as she rose to the sky.

“Ick,” Rosy coughed. “Smells like busted sweepbots.”

Sally released her grip on the brakes, rolling the motorcycle forward to the tents on the fringe of the camp – if they could be called tents. For the most part they appeared improvised from carpets, towels, and stray branches with knots and curves. The mud caked at the edges of cloth nearer to the ground suggested they had been here for some time – and as Sally drew nearer to the main body of the fortress, the front flaps of the diminutive shelters were peeled back, with wary eyes waiting behind them, the sound of shuffling and light breath after.

Sally looked up to see the troops stationed at the wall track Blaze with their rifles as she sailed far over their heads. A burst of murmurs echoed back to Sally then – and as she rounded the corner, she came upon a crowd of men and women dressed in rags, huddled together before the imperious sight of the castle drawbridge. Some had their arms extended, fingers tracing lines in the sky after Blaze’s trajectory. Sally halted her bike.

The ones closest to Sally noticed her presence first. Startled, they recoiled from her vehicle, their eyes wide to the whites. She lifted her hands to show she was no threat, but still the people retreated backward, elbowing and whispering to the unaware to _move back, move back._

Soon enough there was a limited semicircle before Sally, which evolved to a narrow path through to the moat. The crowd of Beryllians had their arms pressed to their sides, as though trying to occupy as little space as possible.

“These people all look so _squishy_ ,” Rosy whispered.

“ _Don’t_ try anything,” Sally said through gritted teeth. “You just got to smash all those ghosts. Now behave yourself.”

“Fiiiine.”

Sally brought her bike to roll forward again, passing the first of the crowd. A few moments later, she had nearly reached the moat when an older man – a squirrel – stepped forward to block the way.

“You’re Resistance soldiers,” he said, looking her over with dull eyes.

“No, sir, we aren’t,” Sally said. “We’re just here—”

“Please,” he groaned. “No sense hiding it. Where else did you get that fancy bike?”

Sally heard shuffling behind her, and turned to notice the crowd had closed off her way in. She blinked, then turned again to make eye contact with the man. “Is there something I can do for you? Sir?”

“Something you can do?” He laughed. “You can give us what you owe. My family and I have been out here on the promise of rations for two weeks and we’ve got _none_. Been terrorized by the wraiths day and night and only half the time does one of you come out to stop ‘em.”

Sally looked down at the bare feet of the crowd, advancing, slowly closing in. She tightened her fists on her handles, and felt Rosy shift her weight on the bike.

“Rosy, wait,” she hissed. Then, addressing the squirrel: “Again, sir, we aren’t Resistance soldiers. We’re just travelers.”

            “Are you gonna feed us, or not?!” someone cried. The complaint kicked off a cacophony of jeers as the crowd came to life:

                                    “- been waiting here for weeks -”

                                                “- the Resistance is supposed to help us!”

Suddenly the distance between Sally and the waving, prying arms was rapidly closing.

“Can I smash ‘em now?!” Rosy shouted, already manifesting her hammer.

Sally hesitated on her answer. The first hand grabbed her—

A long, moaning creak passed over them, smothering the angry cries. It was shortly following by the rumbling, ratcheted sound of chains, as the drawbridge of the castle began to decline. The crowd immediately shifted its focus from Sally and Rosy – some ran to their tents, while others pivoted to face the castle and began waving their arms.

“Awww, no,” Rosy moaned, “they’re letting us in.”

The soldiers on the wall, maybe five in number, leaned over the defensive parapets, their rifles aimed down at the refugee. As the drawbridge neared its final position, two more troops – bearing the same rough green-and-black uniforms – peered over its still-declining edge to ward off the crowd.

Sally closely watched the movement of their guns – small reticules in her eyepiece tracked them and their lines of sight. She tapped the PDA in its holster. “Nicole, are you seeing these?”

“Yes, Sally. I have no records of any similar weaponry. They’re emitting EM signatures, but… they also resemble lifeforms?”

The drawbridge thumped to the ground, and as the last members of the retreating crowd passed Sally they whispered among themselves, “That’s the General! The General!”

With a clear way forward, Sally looked ahead to the lowered bridge flanked by soldiers, and standing under the tall stone archway of the forebuilding were Blaze… and Knuckles. He was slightly older, with a darker muzzle than Sally remembered – but it was unmistakably him. He waved his hand for her to advance.

Sally drove her bike across the bridge even as the crowd behind her erupted again into rancorous shouts, but the Resistance soldiers staved them off still with the glowing barrels of their guns.

Knuckles had already turned away and begun to walk further into the fortress as Sally caught up on her motorcycle. He appeared to be partway through a conversation with Blaze. Sally dismounted her vehicle and walked it behind them, listening.

“—late than never, I guess. I’ve got a mission you can get started on now. Outside—”

“Don’t mistake my intentions, Knuckles.” Blaze leered at him as they walked. “I’m not here as a volunteer.”

“What, you want me to pay you?” Knuckles lifted his hands to demonstrate their emptiness. “This isn’t really a paying job.”

“I’m not here for a _job_ at all,” Blaze groaned. “I knew this would happen.”

Behind them, the drawbridge began to rise again, the shouts and screams gradually phased out by the thundering echo of chains within the high-ceilinged stone archway. Over the noise, Knuckles shouted, “Then what are you here for? Bringing supplies?”

Blaze clasped her hands tightly behind her back, fully exercising the two inches of height she held over Knuckles. “I’m here on _private business_. As a traveler, and a representative of my kingdom. I need you to—”

“No no, wait. Back up.” Knuckles waved his hands. “You don’t get to show up six months late telling me what _you_ need from _me_. Even if that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing—”

“You’re jumping to—”

“—I’ve _ever_ heard, we—”

“—conclusions again, Knuckles—”

“—have had nothing - _nothing_ \- to spare—”

“—Knuckles. Listen to me—”

“—since the Death Egg came down and—”

“The Death Egg is here?”

Blaze and Knuckles turned to look at Sally, who had stopped her movement. The three stared at one another, frozen at the entrance to the castle courtyard. The drawbridge finished its ascent, smothering the residual sound of the crowd outside.

Knuckles gestured to Sally. “Who’s she?”

Blaze parted her lips, but said nothing.

“I’m… from another dimension,” Sally offered, suddenly acutely aware that this Knuckles was effectively a stranger to her. She found her tongue catching as she attempted to choose between a formal or informal address, and eventually settled on neither. “Did you say the Death Egg? It’s here?”

“Not anymore, it isn't. Got blown up like the rest. This was the Mark… V, I think.” Knuckles returned his focus to Blaze. “You bring her from your planet?”

“No. She’s from Dimension the Third. My home is the Thirteenth.”

“Oh, yeah? Great,” Knuckles shrugged, then moved fluidly from nodding to shaking his head to wiping his face. “Okay, so let’s just- let’s just be clear here. Neither of you are here to help?”

“We’re here to tell you about a much bigger problem, Knuckles. There’s something happening at the dimensional level—”

“Yeah, nope, sorry,” Knuckles began walking back towards the gate. “I’ve got enough big problems as is. There are ghosts coming out of the desert, there’s a parade of refugees at my front door, and all my supply lines flat out _vanished_ last month, so – hey, you!”

Knuckles called over to a wolf beside the gate wrapping bandages over a wound on his hand. Sally recognized him as one of the soldiers who had just escorted her into the castle.

“Lower the bridge, private.”

The soldier shifted uncomfortably. “But sir, we just—”

“Yeah, I know. Lower it again. We’re sending these two back out.”

“Knuckles, please.” Sally propped her kickstand and jogged to catch up. “Could you please hear us out? It would only take a few minutes of your time.”

“‘'My time’ isn’t my time to spend. I’ve got a whole… whatever you want to call this, to run, and people are expecting me to run it.”

“I get it. Really, I do. But what we have to tell you concerns those people as well. You owe it to _them,_ as their leader, to listen.”

Knuckles eyed her warily. “Could you stop talking like you know me? We just met.”

Sally tilted her head, remembering for the second time that minute that this wasn’t _her_ Knuckles - as familiar as the ranting and hand gestures were. “Actually,” she said, “I’ve known you for quite some time.”

Knuckles squinted doubtfully. Still, he held up his hand to halt his earlier order.

“We were childhood friends. My family would vacation on Angel Island.”

Knuckles looked to Blaze, standing still where she had earlier. “She probably means your dimensional counterpart,” she explained. “You must have one in Dimension the Third.”

“What?” Knuckles crumpled his lip. “Like a guy that looks like me? I don’t believe it.”

“Functionally, he _is_ you, and not just in appearance,” Blaze said. “Maybe some variance in life experience, which can influence the personality. But practically, you and he are identical.”

“… so he looks like me _and_ talks like me?”

“What part of ‘identical’ don’t you understand?”

Knuckles stared idly for a moment. Then: “I don’t believe you.”

Sally sighed. “How about this: if I can prove that I know you right now - that there are other dimensions, and I'm from one of them - will you hear us out about the greater problem? The two are actually related.”

Knuckles shifted his weight to his heels and frowned expectantly.

“Let's see... you’re named for the ancient clan you’re descended from, you hate crowded places, your favorite food is grapes, and you can only fall asleep lying on your front,” Sally counted off on her fingers. “Do you want more?”

Knuckles blinked. Behind her, Sally heard Blaze give a trademark huff.

From Knuckles’ wrist came a small, scratchy voice: “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

Knuckles grabbed his wrist and spun away. “You little eavesdropping son of—”

“—left your communicator on—” the muffled voice replied, before abruptly cutting out with a _crunch_ as Knuckles pinched his fingers over a part of his glove.

Sally blinked. “Just now, was that…?”

Knuckles turned to face Sally again, emptying what were likely sensitive electronics from his cuff. He avoid eye contact for a good seven seconds, scanning the courtyard as though entering it for the first time, breathing regularly and deliberately. Then, he met Sally’s eyes again and said: “Look. I believe your story… enough. But before we start this – this talking about whatever new problem you’re bringing to me – I want to make clear that I’ve already got more on my plate than can fit in my stomach. Or probably the volume of my entire body. So I can’t promise anything in the way of supplies, troops, rations, anything. I can’t promise you anything.”

“I understand.”

“Then we’re clear?”

“Perfectly,” Sally said. She extended her hand. “But I am confident that, if you hear us out, you’ll understand the gravity of the situation we’re in. And, I’m also confident that you’ll come to the best decision you can.”

Knuckles eyed her hand momentarily, then took it. “Okay,” he said. “Hit me.”

“Before that,” Blaze said, looking to Sally. “Where’s Rosy?”

Sally’s eyes widened. She spun around, suddenly aware of the lack of loud pink and yellow and green against the gray stone walls. “Oh, shoot.”

“Was she that Amy-looking girl?” Knuckles asked.

“Yes,” Sally said, already moving. “We really should find her soon. She can be …”

“Extremely violent, and devoid of impulse control,” Blaze finished, following.

“Right.”

Knuckles pointed to the wolf soldier still by the gate. “Private, where’d that pink girl go?”

“Uh, I d-didn’t see, sir.”

“You should have left her in handcuffs,” Blaze muttered.

Sally opened her mouth to reply as the group of three rounded the corner to the entrance of the rampart’s narrow hallway, but they found themselves immediately face-to-face with Rosy herself, her eyes unfocused and distant, her hands pressed to her face.

“Oh, hey guys,” she said emptily.

“Hi… Rosy,” Sally responded. She craned her neck to look over the small hedgehog to the hallway, the stonework of which was remarkably not shattered. “Where were you?”

“The bathroom,” Rosy said. She pouted. “Nobody helped me find it, so it took a while. But I got there...”

“And you did so without committing grievous property damage?” Blaze asked.

“Huhh?” Rosy cawed, hanging her jaw as her hands slid from her face. “I can’t always be smashing stuff, you know. Cut me a break, _Blaje_.”

Rosy walked past the group of three, still talking as she meandered through the gate back into the courtyard: “I mean, I’d really like to smash forever, but sometimes I’m just not feeling it, you know? Sometimes I can’t be what people want me to be, and sometimes I’m thinking about how I don’t know where I am or where Scourgey is and I’m all alone out here in nowhere world so, I just…” Rosy’s voice caught and she wiped at her face. Then, silently, she flopped to the ground and lay face-forward, unmoving, on the patchy grass sequestered within the fortress walls.

Knuckles turned to Sally and Blaze with a solemn, nearly mournful face. The three looked wordlessly at one another for a moment, before Knuckles pointed to the wolf soldier and told him that “if she tries anything, you have permission to fire.” Shaking his head, he entered the hallway. “Follow me. Walk and talk.”

Blaze looked to Sally, who pointed to her black glove to indicate that she had indeed tapped Rosy’s wrists on her way out and that the nanites now bound the hedgehog where she lay. Blaze widened her eyes as if to say _You should have done that much earlier,_ and followed Knuckles.

Sally lingered a moment beneath the tall stone archway at the fort’s entrance, fully appreciating for the first time the span of the courtyard. With the range of training dummies, the rationing stand, the entrance to what looked to be an armory… and the sense that there was history here, something ancient sealed the beneath modern technology and the weight of war, a hope on the verge of resurrection… it was familiar. Familiar, but not quite home.

Sally couldn’t quite put her finger on the distinction, but she was already prying herself away from the sight, and left the thought spinning in her mind as she walked quickly between the stone and the steel to keep pace with the General and Blaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I surprised myself a bit with how quickly I wrote this one, so I do hope the quality will remain consistent. We are finally getting to the beginning of my outline proper, so ideally content will be easier to get done. There will likely be just one last prologue part before the story can really begin.
> 
> You may notice I've changed Rosy's color. This is to bring things more in line with my long-term vision of the piece.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	8. War Room

## 8 – War Room

Three flights of staircases took them up to an old wooden door nailed through to a metal sheet a half-inch thick. “Bulletproof,” Knuckles commented, he swung it open it for Blaze and Sally. As Sally passed through, an element of the wood caught her eye, and with an extra second of focus she determined it to be the flowering trail of what was likely an intricate carving, practically smothered by the defensive steel. She frowned and closed the door behind her.

“My office,” Knuckles announced, presenting the broad wooden table at the room’s center with an outstretched arm. “Doubles as a tactics room. Tried to keep everything more or less the same when we relocated from the sewer base.” Strewn over a geography foreign to Sally were handwritten papers and a motley collection of wooden pieces: small, Resistance green arrows, and large red orbs, in and around what appeared to be a desert border.

“That’s outdated now,” Knuckles said, following Sally’s eyes to the map. “War’s over, so take off all the red chips. And, toss 90% of the green chips too, ‘cause they went home! The Eggman’s finished! Huzzah! Let's all quit!” Knuckles shook his hands in mock celebration, then smacked his forehead. “I swear everyone on this planet has amnesia. They forget the last crisis just in time for the next one to hit ‘em right between the eyes-” he paused to grab a cup from a desk by the window and drink from it, “-and then, when I say we need a standing army – or literally any sort of backup plan, whatsoever – I’m the idiot. Uh, okay.”

“… so, you’re fighting an Eggman here as well?” Sally asked.

“Not anymore, we aren’t. No one’s seen him since the war ended. Not like he hasn’t always come back every four to eight months, right on schedule, but…” Knuckles rubbed his face. “I swear this time is different, with him. I think, this time… he might actually be dead." He allotted a small pause, then finished, "Still, doesn’t mean we can’t be prepared.”

Blaze looked to Sally. “I thought you said Robotnik was your enemy, not Eggman?”

“We’ve had both,” Sally sighed.

“I thought they were the same person,” Knuckles muttered.

“Perhaps they’re some sort of… atrocious dimensional constant,” Blaze mused.

The three shared a collective moment of pensiveness.

“Anyway… where were we. Blaze, you were talking about how dimensions are like candles, but they’re like different candles? I don’t get it.”

Blaze sighed.

Sally held up her hands. “It’s simpler than it seems. As far as we understand it, the situation is: people that belong on other worlds are being transported here against their will. They come down in the form of meteors, and the results can be… disastrous.”

“So the meteors we’ve been hearing about are you guys arriving?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re one of them? You came out of a meteor?”

“Yes.”

“Hm. You don’t seem too bad.”

“Come again?”

“We heard some wild rumors about monsters coming out of the meteors… but all the ones we investigated, we never found anything. Least, I think that’s the sitrep. Usually my science guy handles this.” Knuckles flicked his eyes towards his wrist. “But, if the meteors are just some people showing up, how is it ‘disastrous?’ Or worse than what I’m dealing with outside?” Knuckles jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the tall office window which looked out over the courtyard. “Looks to me like the worst part of the meteors is the actual impacts, which I can’t really do anything about. What am I supposed to do… catch 'em? Fly up and herd ‘em?”

“No – the problem _is_ actually bigger than the meteors. I’d break it down in two parts: one is implicit in the fact that the people coming here have a lot of responsibilities back home, myself included. Mobius, our home planet, is probably already on its way towards chaos.”

Knuckles tapped his foot. “And the other part?”

“Things can go very badly very quickly _here_ as well,” Sally stressed. “There are a lot of very powerful, very dangerous entities from my home dimension that this world might not have the proper defenses for.”

“‘Dangerous entities?’ Like the extra-psycho Amy you just dropped at my doorstep?”

“… yes. We were actually hoping-”

" _You_ were hoping," Blaze corrected.

"Sure.  _I_ was hoping you could take her into custody.”

“Uh, what? Like throw her in jail?” Knuckles blinked and shook his head. “Didn’t I just get through telling you our supply lines died a month ago? I’m not wasting rations on a prisoner.”

“It would be a temporary solution,” Sally said, “because – and this is what I’ve wanted to tell you – I’d like to help you and the Resistance gather the resources necessary to begin sending people from my dimension home.”

Knuckles shook his head. “Okay. I said I’d hear you out. Just remember: I can’t promise you anything. What would you need?”

“Blaze?” Sally prompted.

“You’d require a source of immense power to serve as fuel, and a conduit to direct that fuel: typically, an especially tenacious being or an artisan machine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the basics. I’ve done it before.”

“You have?” Sally balked. Blaze looked on disbelievingly.

“I mean, I didn’t do it myself. We used some Eggman tech, about… three years ago.”

“You've gone to a different dimension, but you didn't believe I was from one?”

“I didn’t believe you somehow knew me, or that there was another 'me' where you came from, because the last time I went to a different dimension, I didn’t find any copies of me lying around. I mean, there were people there that _looked_ like me, but they weren’t… whatever. Forget it.” Knuckles grimaced and waved his hand. “When I asked what you’d need, I meant specifics. What ‘power source’ are you thinking, and what ‘conduit’?”

Sally thought a moment. “Is there any chance the Eggman tech you used is still an option?”

“Nope. Was built into a spaceship that wrecked on re-entry.”

“Worth a shot,” Sally sighed.

“Regardless, as we discussed earlier,” Blaze said, “your best option in terms of power sources would be the counterparts to the Sol Emeralds.” She snapped her fingers, then opened her hand. Above her palm, six colored points of light fizzled into existence and began to swirl in a slow orbit. Over the course of a second, they grew and solidified to glowing emerald-cut gems.

“… so, you want a Chaos Emerald?” Knuckles asked. “And I’m guessing the ‘conduit’ is someone that can use Chaos Control.”

“It looks that way,” Sally said.

“We do have both of those,” Knuckles said, idly watching the Sol Emeralds spin, his brow furrowed. “But they’re not here.”

“Then—”

“But wait, look.” Knuckles briefly closed his eyes. “Before you get your hopes up. The Emerald and its user are out on a mission right now, and I’m not about to send a messenger to go give ‘em orders to come back _just_ for you because, if you can believe it, I have bigger concerns right now than… what, what is this. Let’s call this the ‘meteor problem,’” Knuckles said, leaning his lower back against his desk. He mimed with his hands as though to frame the idea. “Frankly, the ‘meteor problem’ is not currently on my Top 5 Problems List. Yes, I heard what you said about all the dangerous people that _could be_ showing up, but I’m still more concerned right now with fixing the ‘zombie ghost’ problem, which is this thing where shadowy immortal mist men come out of the sky at night and drag people away into the desert. And we can’t stop ‘em or kill ‘em. That’s like, the number one problem right now.”

“The reason we’re here is precisely to correct those priorities,” Blaze said, withdrawing the Sol Emeralds. “Countering this dimensional crisis far outweighs the wraiths, and whatever other paltry concerns might presently fill your little list. You must help me recover the Sol.”

Knuckles snorted.

“Blaze,” Sally urged.

“What is it?” Blaze snapped. “We’re wasting our time. The Emerald is out there waiting for us and you’re struggling to convince a man who openly admitted he had no resources to spare.” Blaze turned to Knuckles. “I’ll say this plainly. _If_ you want your world to continue on the path of fundamental, essential stability you have been taking for granted, you _will_ help me to recover the seventh Sol and work alongside my family to restore dimensional balance.”

Knuckles again closed his eyes rubbed his temples; he allotted a few moments of massage before speaking. “That’s funny, really. It’s funny, because I _thought_ I only counted six of ‘em earlier, but I figured my eyes must’ve been tricking me. Uh, but no. I was right.”

Knuckles reopened his eyes, which were now practically bulging with rage. “ _That’s_ the reason you’re only showing up now? Because _you_ lost an Emerald? _That’s_ why you came to me?” He leapt from his relaxed stance by the desk and strode across the room to Blaze, fists clenched. “You can't be bothered to drop by when a war was on, but now that you failed at your own job, you actually have the _audacity_ to come ask me for help?”

“Knuckles, wait!” Sally stepped forward to halt Knuckles’ advance. “Please, we really do mean well. There’s a bigger problem here—”

“No, I believe _you_ ,” Knuckles said, glancing at Sally. “Story checks out. You know me, you're here against your will, yada yada. I get it... but not this one. Clearly, she only bothers _gracing_ us with her royal presence when there’s something in it for her.”

“I’m never ‘in it for me,’ Knuckles,” Blaze said, calmly. “My mission to regain the seventh Sol isn’t for some personal benefit: it is only the latest in my undertakings in the role of Guardian, and a prerequisite for a proper audience with my family, where I may query them on the matter of this dimensional disorder; its origin and spread, and the methods we may undertake to counter it. Assisting me in this service is in your best interest.”

“My best interest?” Knuckles shouted. He stepped further towards Blaze, but Sally continued to block the way. “If you cared at all about me, or about _anyone_ out here, you would have shown up _last year_ when there were Death Egg Robots ripping Beryllia City to pieces. You know we haven’t seen or heard from Vanilla or Cream since then?”

Blaze’s eyelids flickered at the mention of Cream, but she returned Knuckles’ gaze steadily. “I’m not some cosmic soldier of fortune, Knuckles. I cannot prioritize the struggles of Dimension the First over those of the Third, or the Sixth, or any of the rest. My family and I are regulators. We manage major interdimensional crises, not the happenings of _one_ planet at _your_ beck and call.”

“Whatever you want to call yourself, you must be terrible at it,” Knuckles said. He gave up shouting over Sally and started walking back towards the window. “Going by the fact someone stole a Sol Emerald on your watch. Maybe it was one of the ghosts you talked down on? Made off with it while you were sleeping?”

Blaze grit her teeth. “My role as Guardian of the Sols is a special honor, typically independent of my family’s greater responsibilities. Though I find it amusing you would criticize me, Guardian of the Master Emerald, for all the stories I’ve heard of your ward being stolen or shattered or lost.”

Knuckles began to advance again from his side of the room, this time with his fists raised. “I swear I’m gonna—”

“Stop! Both of you!” Sally slammed her fist on the table. A moment of silence followed, with Sally's eyes shadowed by her hair. Then: “We don’t need to keep arguing about this. I have a solution. For everyone.”

Blaze squinted. “Then why didn’t you share it earlier?”

“Because I kept getting cut off!” Sally said. She took a breath. “But that’s not important. Now, would you both be willing to listen?”

“Go ahead,” 

“Depends,” Knuckles said.

“Well, Knuckles, earlier I heard you say you can’t stop or kill the wraiths?”

“The zombie ghosts? Yeah.”

“That’s redundant,” Blaze muttered.

“Please be quiet, Blaze,” Sally said, pointing. “We’re speaking civilly, now. Parley, yes? Knuckles - what are your current countermeasures?”

“Can't really call 'em 'countermeasures.’ The creeps double if you shoot ‘em, so we just hunker down and wait ‘em out.” Knuckles grimaced and smacked his fist into the opposite palm. “I hate it.”

“What if I told you we found a way to kill them?”

Knuckles looked between Sally and Blaze with wide eyes. “You’re joking.”

“She isn't.”

“Why didn’t you start with that?”

“I didn’t realize it was going to be this hard to get to,” Sally sighed.

“Well, how do you do it? Tell me.”

Sally reached to tap Nicole, then hesitated. Blaze’s curious eyes followed her hand, then she looked up to make contact with Sally. She shook her head.

Sally reluctantly nodded, returning her hand to her side. “When the wraiths swarm… a glowing cloud will form nearby. It contains a crystal that appears to power, or otherwise sustain the wraiths. Destroying it destroys them. You need a good amount of force, but it can be done.”

Knuckles’ mouth fell open. “So… that’s what that thing is.”

“And, destroying the wraiths is a vital step for the first part of the plan,” Sally said. She held up a single finger. “We... are going to go into the desert, towards the strongest singularity of the wraiths’ energy, and eliminate it. That solves the 'zombie ghost' problem. And Blaze, as I understand it, there’s good reason to believe your Sol Emerald is waiting out there too.”

Blaze leered at her. “That’s true.”

“We'll work as a team to help you recover it. And once you do so, you’ll return to your family, and get their assistance on… ‘the meteor problem.’” Sally looked to Knuckles. “Sound good?”

“Of course it does,” Knuckles said, “So what’s the catch?”

“After this mission, you allow me access to the Chaos Emerald and its user. So I can get home, and maybe start bringing back any dimensional refugees we come across.”

A few moments passed in silence, with Knuckles’ gaze fixed on a distant point. Then he frowned, nodded, and put out his hand. “Deal.”

Sally eagerly took his hand and shook it. She looked to Blaze as she did so, holding out her other hand with an ironed smile, as a showman would. _‘Quid pro quo.’_

Blaze rolled her eyes.

“Then let’s get this underway,” Knuckles said, walking past the both of them to the doorway. “I'll take you to the science office. I want the zombie gh… the _wraiths_ gone by the end of the week.”

“It’s Saturday.”

Disappearing down the steps, Knuckles called back, “Did I stutter?”

Blaze began to follow, but Sally stopped her with an outstretched arm. "Wait." In a hushed, urgent voice, she asked, “What was all that?”

“All what?”

“All that… borderline fist fighting! You said you were friends with the Resistance leader, but you've been at each other's throats since we got here!”

“I never said we were friends. Only that we've had an encounter in the past.”

“And what sort of ‘encounter’ was that?”

“I buried him in a landslide,” Blaze said with a coy smile, walking past Sally to the door.

Sally stared at the spot Blaze had occupied in fatigued shock. A few moments had passed, wherein she suppressed a miniature form of the same terror she’d felt when she’d stared into Rosy’s foaming face in the burning village and realized that was the person her life was counting on. Then, when she had felt sufficiently suppressed, she turned to the doorway in time for the wailing scream of a siren to begin outside.

A surge of adrenaline like cold fire raced through her veins, as overhead a loudspeaker blared: “CODE RED. WE HAVE GHOSTS INBOUND. CODE RED. THIS IS NOT A DRILL…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's practically a meme at this point, but I swear the prologue is ending soon. Just one more part.
> 
> And for those fact checkers out there, Blaze did indeed drop a landslide on Knuckles during the events of Sonic Rush.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	9. Twilight Siege

##  9 – Twilight Siege

“… CODE RED. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. GHOSTS SIGHTED ON THE PERIMETER. CODE RED. GET TO YOUR APPOINTED SHELTER…”

Sally spun to look out the office window. In the early twilight, thin, trailing lines of crackling black and red smoke had begun to creep over the ramparts at the fore of the castle. _No time to waste_.

She raced for the doorway and practically slid down the narrow spiral staircase to an exit that let out to the top of the castle wall where Blaze was waiting. The two started along the wall to the forebuilding: Sally jogging, Blaze hovering with concentrated streams of fire.

“Where’s Knuckles?” Sally asked.

Blaze swiveled and pointed up towards the tower Sally had just descended – and which Knuckles was now in the process of free climbing.

“Great,” Sally muttered. “I was hoping we could coordinate the approach.”

“He expressed an intent to fly down from above and break the wraith’s crystals himself.”

“Well, we’ll see how that goes.” Sally tapped her PDA. “Nicole?”

“Yes, Sally?”

“I need a read on these wraiths. Show me the heat map.”

A small HUD blurred into existence in Sally’s eyepiece. A mini-map flickered at the bottom left: Sally and Blaze were represented with blue and lavender arrows.

“I don’t have GPS functionality, so this map is limited to sensor readings only. This said, I can still provide you the relative distance to the wraith’s power crystal.”

“That’s fine, just tell me where it is.”

“Processing…”

Sally and Blaze had reached the forebuilding of the castle and looked out over the camp. A black, miasmatic ocean, crackling with red energy, had drowned the tents to their splintered wooden tips. Erratic swirls at the surface and muffled screams betrayed fleeing refugees, likely terrified as they stumbled through the dark – beneath it all, the low, buzzing moans of wraiths.

Sally turned to her partner. “Blaze. I’m gonna need you to be more careful with your fire this time. These aren’t abandoned buildings. There are people down there.”

“I know that,” Blaze answered, sharply.

Sally searching the storm of smoke desperately a clear point of entry when her HUD pinged with an update. Above the blue and lavender arrows, the mini-map now displayed three glowing red points.

“… Nicole, something’s wrong here. I’m seeing three points on my map?”

Nicole’s voice came through her PDA speaker. “There’s no error, Sally. I’m reading three distinct concentrations of radiation that resemble the crystal we encountered last night.”

" _Three?"_ Sally looked to the sky. “I can't even see one.”

“Yes - my readings indicate they’re on the ground level. They’re each moving in random walks at about ten miles an hour.”

“They’re adapting?” Blaze muttered.

More screams echoed up from the camp below, with the occasional splash following. “They’re falling into the moat,” Sally said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “We need a plan.”

“I’ll defer to you,” Blaze said. She straightened her back. “You’ve proven your tactical worth. Guide us well.”

Sally looked over to her partner. “I… appreciate that,” she managed.

Blaze nodded.

“So… with three crystals, we'll need a lot of help. One of us needs to go get Knuckles, since he’s not gonna have any luck up there. And…” Sally turned and crossed to the inner side of the castle wall, looking into the courtyard. Rosy was lying still where she had before. “Good. Alright, here’s the plan: you go get Knuckles, I’ll get Rosy. Rendezvous at the gate.”

“Understood,” Blaze said. She leapt from the wall, and in a burst of swirling fire flew up to the castle’s tower.

Sally tapped the PDA. “I need to climb down.”

“Would this ice axe design suit you?” an image flashed in Sally’s eye.

“That should work.” Sally looked to her arms as the instruments steadily assembled themselves – hooked blades with serrated edges, for grip. She flipped over the parapet and planted each in a gap between the broad limestone blocks – then gradually spidered down the wall, dropping the last ten feet. She jogged to Rosy’s inert form.

“Rosy, get up,” she said, touching her glove to Rosy’s bound wrists. The nanites, still stripping Sally’s axes, chittered as they unwound the knotted fabric.

“Mmm... Five more minutes, Robbie,” she muttered.

“Nope, no five more minutes. We’re out of time, and I need you up.” Sally rolled her over.

Rosy's eyes were plainly pinched shut. In fact, it appeared as if she was employing every muscle in her face to keep them that way.

“Come on, Rosy. I need you to smash. You like doing that, right?”

“What’s the point? I can smash as much as I want but it won’t get me to Scourgey.”

Sally rubbed her face. “Okay, look. If you help me, Knuckles, and Blaze, we can get you back to… your ‘Scourgey.’”

Rosy cracked an eye. “Promise?”

“Yes. I promise. But we actually can’t do it without you. So get ready.”

Rosy grinned her horrifically sharp teeth as she sat up and stretched her arms. “OK!”

Sally heard the characteristic sound of Blaze’s rocket soles as she carefully touched down beside them. Knuckles landed shortly after with a _thump._ Sally stood to meet them.

“I’ve briefed him on the crystal situation,” Blaze said.

“Good. About that: do you _usually_ see more than one of those sources out here?”

“Nope. This is the first time,” Knuckles said. “I’ve also never seen them come out this early. Or, keep their glowing clouds close to the ground. It’s almost like they planned this one.”

“Okay. It’s fine, we can handle it… it’s just two more targets." Sally thought a moment, then repeated, "We can handle it. Everyone - bring it in for the plan.”

“Right.”

“OK.”

Blaze and Rosy moved closer to Sally, watching her intently for instructions. But Sally’s eyes were trained on Knuckles, who had remained where he stood.

After a moment, Blaze followed Sally’s gaze to look back at him: his eyes were closed, with his fist curled beneath his jaw. “What are you doing?”

Knuckles blinked his eyes open. “Coming up with the plan,” he answered. “Why’d you all move over there?”

“Because I already have the plan,” Sally said.

“Okay, then we both have plans,” Knuckles said. “Now all we have to figure out… is which of us outranks the other. I’m the General, and you are…?” he held his hand out to Sally.

Sally sighed. “Please just tell me your plan isn't climbing back up the tower.”

“No. Not right away, at least.”

“Alright, then what is it?”

“It's like this: first, we wait ‘em out, like usual; only this time, when they start coming over the walls – and they have to bring those crystals with them, right? – I’ll bust them myself. _Maybe_ climbing the tower in the process.”

“And what about everyone outside?” Sally asked. “Food for the ghosts?”

“I’m not responsible for them,” Knuckles said. “I’m responsible for my troops and this fort. I tell the guys outside daily that this is not a safe place to stay, and that I have nothing to give them, and that they’re better off moving further inland where I’ve heard there aren’t any wraiths. Really. I shout it to them daily, out of a megaphone. They don’t listen.”

“That doesn’t justify leaving them out there,” Sally said.

“I think it could,” Blaze mused. “He makes a good case.”

“No, he doesn’t! Look – ethics aside, the tactics don’t even make sense. You want to wait for them to come over the walls, but they can clearly do that whenever they want to, because they can fly.”

“So? So can I.”

“ _So,_ that means they’re only over there because _they_ want to be! They’re probably not going to change focus until the entire camp gets depopulated, and at that point, why bother killing them? The damage would already be done.”

“And you have a better plan?”

“Yes!”

“Then let’s hear it.”

“Okay. So - as an overview, it involves taking the fight to them.”

“Wait, what? Like, you want us to leave the castle and walk into the Mist?” Knuckles balked.

“Yes.”

“No way. You’re nuts. Think my tactics are stupid? Yours are _beyond_ stupid.”

“And why is that.”

“Because you’re forgetting people don’t come back _out_ of the Mist once they go _in!_ ” Knuckles shouted. “Even if you _can_ break the crystals, you’ll get smothered or clawed apart before you actually get to them!”

“I have a plan for that,” Sally stressed.

“Still, leaving this place constitutes entering hostile territory,” Blaze said. “Conversely, Knuckles’ plan employs this castle’s defenses, which increases our odds of confirmed crystal kills. We could thin their numbers, better situating us for the upcoming desert campaign.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Knuckles said. “Can’t believe I’m agreeing with you, of all people.”

"Don't get used to it."

Sally turned to Blaze. “I thought you said you were deferring to me?”

“I am. I still intend to follow your orders. I’m simply providing counsel.”

Sally rubbed her eyes, sighing. “I miss the Fighters.”

“Aliciaaaaa," Rosy droned, "am I smashing something or _not_?”

“Yes. Soon.” Sally rubbed her eyes. “Fine. Knuckles, I didn’t want to play this card, but… I know you – or your counterpart – very well. I made that clear earlier. So, I can say with some personal confidence that the Knuckles I know wouldn’t pour a year of his life into a war just to have everyone he saved drown in his own moat while he cowered in his castle.”

Knuckles’ stance shifted. He leaned his head forward. “Did you just call me a coward?”

“I’d say what you’re doing right now amounts to cowering, yes.”

“You think I want to do this?” Knuckles shouted. “You think I built this army and fixed up this fortress so I could sit back and watch it all burn?” He marched forward until his face was inches from Sally’s. “You haven’t been hounded by these things day in and day out for the past sixth months, like I have. You _just_ got here. I don’t care how well you think you know me, but you _just_ got here. Truth is, I hate having to make these calls. But I wouldn’t have any soldiers left… if I didn’t have to keep killing that part of me begging to dive head-first into the ghost horde and tear them all to pieces myself.”

Sally held Knuckles’ gaze for a while - his body was upright, his posture set steady from his ankles to his jaw. But along the inner edges of his pupils, she could see him quaking.

“Strategic inaction is hardly cowardice,” Blaze added. “Again, I will stand by you, Sally, but our objective here should be to eliminate the enemy. We should take every measure we can to achieve that.”

“No,” Sally said, breaking eye contact with Knuckles. “There’s a time for strategic inaction. There’s a time for retreat. There’s a time for every measure of withdrawal or neutrality… but right now is not one of those times." Sally turned and began walking towards the castle gate.  “Right now, beyond this wall, there are innocent people in danger. We’re going to help them. And helping them begins with opening this door.”

“ _What?_ What did you just say?”

“Blaze? Rosy?” Sally extended her hand. Rosy drew her hammer from nowhere and dropped its head to the ground with a weighty _clang_. She dragged it behind her on the way to the gate, its pointed face leaving a narrow trough in the courtyard dirt. Blaze followed, gliding one hand over the other to ignite both palms to glowing embers. Her shoe heels clicked on the stonework below the entry archway.

Sally turned to face Knuckles, flanked by her team. “Now. Are you going to open this door for us? Or will I have Rosy do it?”

Rosy’s lips split to a toothy grin.

Knuckles grit his teeth. “You're not gonna strong-arm me, here. You’re in _my_ fortress, remember?”

Sally shook her head. “Your choice. Rosy?”

Rosy advanced to the waiting wooden wall of the drawn drawbridge. She hefted her hammer up in a readied swing and—

“Freeze!”

The wolf soldier from earlier that day leapt down from cover, then slowly rose to a standing position, his oddly shaped rifle pointed straight at Rosy’s chest.

“Shoot,” Sally hissed, beneath her breath.

"I said freeze!"

“Hhhhhuh?” Rosy cocked her head, leaning in over the muzzle of the gun. “What’re you doing, little wolf boy?”

“I’m… stopping you,” he answered. His tremoring voice reverberated in the stone arch. “The bridge stays up during raids. General’s orders.”

“Okay,” Sally called. “You’ve made your point, soldier. Just lower the gun.”

“Wait… he thinks this is gonna hurt me?”

"Yes, and it probably will. Rosy--"

“Nahhh, this little thing? Come on--”

“—Rosy. Could you—”

“--this thing won’t prolly take longer to break than each and _every one of your bones_!”

“Rosy, no!”

Rosy lifted her hammer--

“Enough!”

The thunder of rumbling chains echoed down over them. All heads turned to Knuckles, who had pulled the lever at the side of the gate. The drawbridge began a steady descent.

“Stand down, private,” Knuckles commanded. “We’re going through.”

The soldier lowered his gun, stumbling backward as his legs gave out. Knuckles released his grip on the lever and walked over to join the three girls.

“Change of heart?” Blaze asked.

Knuckles kept his eyes forward. “Don’t make me regret it,” he said.

Sally let out a shuddering sigh of relief.

“T minus sixty seconds ‘till that bridge is down. What’s the plan?”

“Okay," Sally said, collecting herself. "We’ve got two objectives here! The primary one is breaking those three crystals. We get rid of those and the problem solves itself. Rosy, that’s on you. You have smash duty.”

“Yay!”

“Now, the problem is getting _to_ those crystals. I have a radar that will lead us there.” Sally eyed Knuckles. “Don’t ask me how, but I do. So Rosy, I need you to stay close to me. If we lose you, this operation is over. Blaze!”

“Yes?”

“You’re aerial support. Follow Rosy and I from above. Use fire lines – _controlled_ fire lines – to keep the wraiths at bay. If we get swarmed, arm a perimeter around us like you have before, and we’ll figure things out from there.”

“Understood.”

“So what am I doing?”

“Knuckles, I need you on the secondary objective, which is pulling refugees out of that moat. They could be injured or drowning, so be careful with them."

“Seriously?”

"You have the best skillset for climbing in and out of there, so yes.”

"Let me at least bust one of the crystals!"

“Not this time. You’re saving lives. Take pride in it.”

“Urgh.”

The bridge hit its rest on the opposite end of the moat – the resultant echo of wood on stone punctuated the roar of chains. A silent cloud of crackling black smoke awaited them.

Sally took a deep breath. “Everyone know what they’re doing?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes.”

“Got it.”

“Okay. Let’s move out!”

Blaze and Knuckles leapt from opposite ends of the bridge. Knuckles dove into the water with a quiet splash, while Blaze rocketed up overhead. Once she gained purchase roughly fifteen feet above them, she hurled the first wave of fire from her arm down into the cloud. It broke over the surface of the dirt, splitting a pathway for Rosy and Sally.

The moans of burning wraiths came back to them as Sally and Rosy advanced to the edge of the smog. Sally felt the weight of her arms rebalance as her jacket sleeves slid down to form her nanite blades. She gripped the PDA in the holster at her waist and eyed the mini map.

“Nicole, I’m counting on you.”

“As always, Sally.”

Blaze raised her arm, extinguishing a clear path through the raging fire. Sally charged on, arms raised, with Rosy close behind. A wraith’s arm occasionally managed to come through the flames, catching Sally’s blade or Rosy’s hammer with a metallic ring. Sally tried to keep her head low, below the smoke and the flying claws.

With her visibility practically nil, Sally swerved right when the flame road terminated and crashed through the entrance of a tent. A wave of screams met her. As she recollected herself, her eyes adjusted to the dark and she noticed what appeared to be a family of five. They stared back at her with slack jaws.

“It’s not safe here,” Sally said. “Get to the-augh!”

Sally lurched forward as she felt points dig into her back. The edges of her vision clouded. Then, there was a sound like slamming metal, and the pain vanished. She spun to see Rosy lifting her hammer from the dirt; an inky puddle was collecting in the impression of her hammerhead. The family screamed again.

Sally moved Rosy away from the entrance with her arm. “Go, get to the castle!” she commanded the family. “Stay within the fire lines! Keep your heads low! Leave your things!”

The group obeyed, shuttling out through the entrance Sally had torn in the shelter. Sally looked to Rosy. “Thanks for that,” she said.

“Who’s next?” Rosy grinned.

Overhead, Blaze followed Sally’s course with her eyes, whirling her arms down, her fire brokering safe passage. She paused for a moment to breathe when her eyes caught on movement nearby – an enormous drift, some fifteen feet tall, had built up in the Mist – it moved now like an iceberg towards the desert. She squinted. _That smoke… it’s a different color than the rest…_

“You’re nearly there, Sally! It’s twenty yards out, two o’ clock!”

Sally planted her palms on a stretch of crates to vault over them. “Follow the fire!” she shouted, as more refugees fled from their tents. “Go to the castle!”

 _They seem safe where they are,_ Blaze thought, looking to Sally and Rosy below. _This will only take a moment._ She quickly adjusted her posture to bring her closer to the wave. Unlike the constantly undulating tide of Mist below her – which at times would expose the light brown dirt below beneath – this moving peak appeared entirely opaque in the last embers of sunlight. And at its tip, something bright was glowing…

_BOOM_

Sally turned her head to the sound of a distant explosion. _Was that near the—_ “augh!”

A sharp pain struck Sally’s side; she whipped her arm beside her to cut the wraith in half. It moaned and crumpled away, temporarily defeated; but a numbing feeling was already creeping up Sally’s side. Muddled memories came to her of watching Rosy and Blaze sail up the crystal, and the sense of breathlessness she’d had after being caught. She gripped the cloth of a tent to hold herself up. “Nicole,” she gasped, “is there some kind of… venom? In me?”

“I’m sorry Sally, but I’m not properly equipped for medical readings,” Nicole said. “I am reading some traces of wraith radiation coming from you, but that could be noise. I can't be sure. I'm sorry.”

"It's okay. Just--" There came suddenly the sound of wood splintering and bursting. Sally turned in time to see Rosy stumble through the shattered remains of the crates she’d crossed before. “Was that… really necessary?”

Blaze drew near enough to the ‘iceberg’ now to understand. The light atop it was in fact a crystal, exposed to the twilight air. Seeing its form for the first time, Blaze took in the details: icosahedral faces, with a texture resembling red smoky quartz. It sat atop a whirling nest of wraiths wound so tightly around each other that no light could pass through. Blaze whirled around it in a careful orbit, studying its motion.

Then, a wave of energy pulsated down from the crystal over its surface. Red light shone through from the inside, illuminating… arms, legs. Faces. Blaze’s blood curdled with the realization. _This entire thing… is a mass of people._ She slowed for a moment, looking over at Sally and Rosy’s halted progress. _They won’t be able to climb it without getting pulled in…_

“I see it!” Rosy hopped to free her ankles of the wood and raced past Sally, nearly shoving her over. She pointed as she ran. “I see it, I see it!”

Sally followed Rosy’s finger. About twenty yards ahead just as Nicole predicted, a red heart of the wraiths was waiting for them. Though far closer to the ground than the one they’d encountered before, this crystal too was insulated by a thick, swirling shadow. The intensity of its light varied with a regular beat. _It’s pulsing,_ she thought.

As Rosy drew nearer, the beat increased, and light began to diffuse from the center.

Sally squinted. _It's speeding up? And, wait, are those—_

“—eyes,” she said allowed. A swarm of small, red, hard-angled eyes was fluttering out from the core. Sally lurched forward. “Stop, Rosy!” she yelled, over the cacophony of moans and burning wood. “It’s creating more wraiths! Get out of there!”

“Hunh?!” Rosy whipped her head around. “What did y—aack—!”

The claws of six or seven wraths crashed down on Rosy, knocking her to the ground and sending her hammer tumbling behind her.

Blaze broke from circling the mass and moved straight out about fifty yards. She knew now what she had to do.

“Oh no,” Sally muttered. Holding the wound in her side, she stepped forward. “Rosy, stay with me!”

“Sally – please stay where you are. You already have a significant injury, and your odds against that many wraiths—”

“I _know_ ,” Sally said. She looked skyward: Blaze was nowhere in sight. Rosy was getting swarmed. The plan was falling apart, but… she desperately scanned her surroundings. _There has to be some kind of answer…_

Blaze rocketed towards the glowing summit. Once she’d gained enough speed, she began spinning to stabilize her trajectory.

Her vision blurred under the centripetal force. Time seemed to slow against her racing heart. To eyes below she had become a brilliant bolt of light, crossing the pale face of the moon, dragging a ribbon of autumn color through the smoky dusky sky. _This is the only solution…_

_BADOOM_

Sally shut her eyes and dropped to her knees as a double shockwave tore the air; a brilliant burst of crimson light, brighter than the sun, shone through her eyelids. Then it was gone. Rippling aftershocks echoed into the distance as everything went silent. Then a long, low rumble passed over the camp: the sound of a thousand voices, moaning an eidolic dirge.

Sally opened her eyes. The wraiths that had piled onto Rosy were drifting away from her now as their bodies grew translucent to the firelight, leaving the hedgehog girl prone on the ground. And behind them… the crystal was gone.

Sally pushed herself up, stretching her jaw to cure the high whine in her ears. She took a step forward – before realizing she was standing in something’s shadow. She looked up.

A hulking bipedal machine, at least ten feet tall, towered over her.

A single word screamed in Sally’s mind: _Run._ She twisted, momentarily forgetting the pain in her side – but just as the adrenaline first reached the fast-twitch muscles in her legs, her eye caught on something. A familiar orange logo, painted on the underside of the mech’s chassis.

“… Tails?”

From the towering machine came a small, scratchy voice: “Um… hi.”

“You… nearly scared me to death,” Sally said. Her heart still pounding, she collapsed to the ground from her runner’s stance. “I didn’t even hear you coming.”

“Sorry. I hovered over…”

Sally slowed her breathing as she looked over the details of the mech. It featured a stout cylindrical chassis, from the front of which three variable-sized barrels protruded. The broadest was still releasing smoke. The massive armored legs supporting it clicked and whirred and emitted steam as they balanced their load.

Sally picked herself up and moved out of the path of the mech’s feet. Then, looking at it from the side, she distinguished the glassy hub of a cockpit. “Are you in this thing?” she asked.

“No, it’s remote controlled.”

“Ah.” Sally turned to look at Rosy, who was covered in glassy crimson shards. “I’m guessing you broke that crystal?”

“Yeah. The one by the castle, too.”

“Knuckles briefed you, then?”

“Yeah. And—well, I… had been thinking, um, the glowing clouds, they, maybe…”

Sally blinked, waiting for Tails to finish the thought. When that time never came, she hefted herself from the tent – still clutching her side – and walked to Rosy’s discarded hammer. A few yards ahead, Rosy was lying still on the ground; and just as Blaze had described to her that morning, the shards Sally had noted earlier were already evaporating.

“We need to rendezvous with Blaze,” Sally said, crouching to grip the handle of Rosy’s hammer. “I lost track of her.”

“I think I saw her on my way over. She was headed towards—”

_BOOM_

The handle of Rosy’s hammer rung hollowly against the ground as Sally dropped it on reflex.

“—the last crystal.”

“Then… that’s it?” Sally asked. “We did it? All three are gone?”

“… guess so.”

Sally sighed into a soft laugh, but choked at the pain in her ribs. She glanced at her blooded hand.

“That looks bad,” Tails said.

“I’ve had worse,” Sally said. Though the toxic numbness creeping up her body from the wound had begun to fade, it left in its place a burning pain whose intensity ebbed with the tide of her breath. She folded forward, propping herself up on an arm-blade. “We could have used you out here earlier,” she said to the ground.

“… yeah,” Tails said. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She turned her face up at the mech and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, Tails.”

“... yeah.”

A few quiet moments passed.

“Um… and I’m sorry if I’m, uh, not supposed to ask this. But… who are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this would be the last chapter, but there's actually one more. However, the last part is a lot smaller than a normal chapter and it's already written/revised, so I'll be uploading that in about 30 minutes.
> 
> I've also elected to start calling these chapters, and the overarcing events "Parts." I may revise some titles accordingly. Apologies for any confusion.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	10. Postscript

## 10 – Postscript

Knuckles was waiting outside as Sally and Tails approached the castle. His spines were flat to his head and back, caked in a later of mud that glistened in the torchlight. He was looking in through the entryway of the fortress to the courtyard, where one could just distinguish the blur of a crowd. Cheering and commotion echoed back to them.

“Sounds like a celebration in there,” Sally called.

Knuckles turned, looked her up and down, then turned again to the castle. “Sure does.”

“Rosy is down,” Sally said as she drew nearer. “I think Blaze must be, too. They’ll probably need medics.”

“So will you.”

Sally looked down at her side. “Yeah.”

“Think I got everyone out,” Knuckles said, looking down at his muddied gloves. He wiped them against his chest, to no noticeable change. To Sally’s eyes, they may even have gotten muddier. Knuckles looked into them for a while. Then, he said aloud: “The Resistance is doomed.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at that,” Knuckles said, gesturing to the castle. “There’s at least a hundred extra people in there now. Our rations just went from weeks to days. And now that we’ve let them in, the other hundred out there—”

Knuckles trailed off and turned to look past Sally. Sally turned to follow his gaze. They had both heard it: a quiet, but powerful rumbling, one you could feel in the soles of your feet. It grew in its intensity for a few moments. Then, the sounds began to properly register: the lulling highs and lows of a battle hymn.

_“… in her heart, and in her soul! … she knows, our hero knows …”_

“Are they… singing?”

The first few came within the minute; then, in greater numbers, the ragged Beryllians shuffled out from the sea of tents, along the smoldering path Blaze had earlier crafted.

_“… the truth, of what is right! … fight, Resistance, fight…”_

“Haven’t heard that one in a while,” Knuckles muttered. “Guess they updated it, too.”

“Updated it?”

_“… in her heart, and in her soul! …”_

“Used to be for a guy.”

The procession reached its greatest width, the marchers’ voices clear and steady now –and above them, resting on the hands of at least a dozen people, was Blaze’s recumbent form. Her coattails torn to ribbons; her white pants stained red.

_“… the truth, of what is right! … fight, Resistance, fight…”_

“Visual recognition shows she’s breathing, Sally,” Nicole said.

Knuckles looked to Sally. “You say something just now?”

“No,” Sally said. She pulled in a deep breath, despite the pain. “But I will say this: I don’t think your Resistance is doomed.”

“What, the chant’s got you inspired? They can sing all they want, it’s not gonna put food in anyone’s mouth.”

“Well, it shows they still have the will to fight – and we have the knowledge and power to make their will a reality. We’ve proven it.”

“I wouldn’t get ahead of myself,” Knuckles said. The tail end of the parade was passing before them, now; meandering children were being guided back into the fold.

Knuckles fell back into a seat on the back of a nearby wagon. “Morale… comes and goes. I think they’re just hungry for a hero. A face to plaster all over the walls.”

Sally eased into the seat beside him. “I’m not sure they can count on Blaze for that,” she said. "At least, not for long. She’s pretty intent on getting back to her world.”

“No way, really? She didn’t make that clear enough.”

The last parade had entered the castle. Their voices echoed back:

_“… fight, Resistance, fight…”_

Knuckles turned to look at Tails’ mech. He leaned forward and knocked on its leg. “You actually in there, buddy?”

“No.”

“Alright. Could you put it back while everyone’s distracted? I’ll see you inside.”

“Okay. See you.”

“Goodbye, Tails.”

The mech’s legs hissed as its pistons slid in their sockets. Wheels on the underside of its feet spun, swiveling it around; then, with its angle adjusted, it began a steady march towards the edge of the fortress.

Watching it go, Knuckles nodded his head towards Sally. “There’s a secret entrance on the other side I don’t want all them knowing about,” he explained. “Hangar-type thing. Camouflaged access panels. Tails built it all himself.”

Tails’ solitary march was the only moving element on the smooth, still canvas of the early night. Sally’s thoughts wandered.

“Is he really okay?” she asked aloud, partially surprising herself. She rushed to fill in an explanation. “I don’t usually know him to be… well, that…”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s… dealing with something. A few things. I don’t know, I’m trying to give him space right now.” Knuckles paused to wipe some muck from his forehead. “What, you know him too? The him on your planet, I mean.”

“I do. I– well, a few of us practically raised him,” Sally said. A smile tugged at her lips. “At least, as much as he raised himself. By the time he was eight, he was teaching _me_ the math homework. It took all I had just to keep up.”

“Sounds like him. Still, I’ll bet you were better at it than we were,” Knuckles muttered. “I think I probably punched the kid the first time I met him.”

“What? Why?”

“… misunderstanding.”

“Oh," Sally said, sensing some amount of shame. She thought a moment. "Actually, I think things went similarly on my planet. At least, according to…” Sally furrowed her brow as she realized where her train of thought had brought her. “Hey.”

“What.”

“If you and Tails and Amy are all here… that means he’s here too, right?”

“Who?”

Sally stood from the wagon, to the protest of her scars. She paced forward and turned to face Knuckles. She felt her heart racing. The name burned at her lips.

“Sonic. Sonic the Hedgehog.”

Knuckles looked at her sidelong for a moment, silent, hands clasped over his lap. Then he turned his eyes earthward and gave a light snort, as if swallowing a laugh. He shook his head.

“So you do know him?” Sally drew nearer. Things were falling into place. “He must be your agent, right? The one with the Chaos Emerald. Look – I know this wasn’t part of our deal, but would you be willing to call him back early? Really, it would make things so much—”

“No.”

“No?”

Knuckles stood from his seat and began to walk back towards the castle.

“No, as in, you don’t know him? Or—”

“No,” Knuckles called back as he rolled his neck, “as in, I won’t call him.”

“Why?"

“Because…” Knuckles stopped at the foot of his drawbridge. Framed by the scorched dirt and worn wood below, the black iron chains beside, and the high stone moonlit archway above him… he turned to give a tired smile.

“Sonic’s dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, the prologue is, at long last, finished.
> 
> I'll probably upload Chapter 11, the first chapter of Part 1, on Friday.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	11. Emerald Coast (Part 1 - Hunting the Hero)

# Part 1: Hunting the Hero

## 11 – Emerald Coast

“Sonic?”

The sun vanished. Pulling a hand out from behind his head to push down at the edge of his sunglasses, Sonic cracked an eye. A woman’s silhouette – almost entirely consumed by the sun and shimmering water behind her – loomed at the foot of his lounge chair. There was a steady pitter-patter as water ran off of her onto the chair’s white plastic laminate.

“That _is_ you, right?”

He readjusted his sunglasses, closed his eyes, and reclined to his original posture.

“’Scuse me, miss. You’re _kinda_ blockin’ my sun.”

“Yeah, that’s _kinda_ the point, Sonic – okay, that is you.”

“Mmm. Are you a fan? ‘Cause – sorry – I’m not doing autographs right now. I’m sorta on vacation.”

“Oh, very funny.”

“Selfies either.”

“Could you please just get up and tell me what’s going on here?”

Sonic sat up, removed his sunglasses, and lifted a hand to block the sun. His eyes refocused on the silhouette. A mongoose girl. Purple hair, gold fur, green and black skirt and top; silvery piercings in her ears. And… she was soaked practically through to the skin.

“Whoa. Uh… tell you what’s going on where?”

“Here. Right here! This beach. Why are you in sunglasses? Where is everyone? I don’t…”

“… well, like I said. I’m on vacation.”

“I thought you were away fighting Robotnik?”

“You mean Eggman? Why would I be fighting him? I’m on vacation,” Sonic said. He tossed his sunglasses onto a folding table he’d set at the side of his chair and exchanged them for a sweating glass of cold pink punch, adorned with a miniature umbrella and lime. “… and he’s, uh, missing, anyway,” he added.

He took a long sip. The mongoose stared at him, jaw slack, her brows knit in a mix of horror and confusion.

Sonic finished his sip and returned the glass to its wet rings of wood. He swallowed. “So…” He squinted against the sun. “You’re _not_ a fan?”

“Can you _please_ just drop the celebrity bit? It's killing me. I don’t even know where we _are_ …” her voice frayed off into heavy breaths.

“Whoa, relax. We’re at Emerald Coast Resort, Station Square. Human territory?” Sonic waited for a reaction, but the girl only blinked back at him anxiously. “Are you los—”

“‘Human’ territory? Who are the ‘Humans?’”

“Tall pink guys? From planet Earth? There are some right over there.” He pointed to a pair of humans tossing a frisbee in the distance.

She followed his finger, squinting. “Wait, those aren't Overlanders?”

“Overla—okay, wait. Who are you?”

“I’m _Mina_ ,” the girl strained. She scraped a lock of damp purple hair off her forehead. “You know me, so stop acting like you don’t.”

“Mina… Mina… sorry, but it’s really not ringin’ a bell? Mina…”

Mina jumped forward and gripped Sonic by his chest fur. “Mina Mongoose,” she seethed, “Lead singer for the Forget me Knots? Your ex-girlfriend!”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Sonic shut his eyes and mimed a time-out between their faces. “Hold up. My ex- _what_?”

“I’m gonna _actually_ kill you,” Mina sighed.

She released him and collapsed at the foot of the chair, allowing her hands to fall limp in her lap. Sonic pulled his feet back to give her some room. Crossing his legs, he watched as her pale olive eyes scanned vacantly over the white sand and rippling blue water.

“Hey. Okay. Sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, here. But I legit don’t remember you.”

Mina turned and looked him over, her eyes steadily refocusing. “You’re serious?”

“Through and through,” Sonic said. “I always keep it real.”

Mina held his gaze for a moment, then broke away, nodding. “I know you do.”

Sonic allotted a moment of silence, during which he leaned to the side and noticed a trail of damp sand that ran from the edge of the waves to Mina’s boots. He eyed her outfit. “So. Just out of curiosity here, Mina – do you normally swim fully clothed?”

Mina looked down at herself. “Ugh, no.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “I try not to swim at all. I just woke up out there, maybe… five minutes ago?”

“You woke up in the water?”

“Yes!” Mina shook her hands. “Everything happened so fast, I can’t believe it.”

“What happened so fast?”

“I don’t even know! I was home eating lunch with Ash. Then there’s this sound like a bomb went off, and this white light comes through the window and washes everything out… then I get this trippy color montage, and then I’m just floating on my back out over that way.”

“Hmmm.”

Mina sighed. “You think I’m crazy, right? I just realized how crazy that sounds.”

“No no, I’m with you.” Sonic ran a hand over his quills. “Okay. So, let me tell you something – and don’t strangle me for the details ‘cause I’m really foggy on it all – but I think it might be relevant. Lil’ while back, I got hurt pretty bad fighting… someone. Eggman, probably.”

“A little while back? Like, after you left a few weeks ago?”

“That long, huh?” Sonic touched his head. “Jeez. See, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. During the fight, I musta took a pretty bad knock on the ol’ noggin, ‘cause… I kinda lost the plot since? I got these gray patches in my memory, like these places where I know people or things should go, but… nothin’s there. Havin’ a lil’ trouble keepin’ track of new things, too.”

Mina frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Eh, it sounds worse than it is. I’ve just been killin’ time out in the sun, you know, takin’ it easy. Used to do that a lot more as a kid... wonder when I stopped?”

Mina pursed her lips.

“Anyway… point is, I don’t think you’re crazy. In fact, your story kinda sounds a little similar to mine. Trippy colors, can’t remember how you got here…. maybe you got hit with whatever Eggman used on me? Like an aftershock, or somethin’.”

Mina thought it over. “You think so?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time the guy lost his grip on things. And judging by how hard _I_ got hit, I wouldn’t be surprised if whatever he used hit some other folks too.”

“Yeah…”

Sonic slapped his thighs and jumped to his feet. “Welp, he’s gone now, so no point dwellin’ on it. Let’s get started on fixin’ all this.” With a quick survey of the beach, he asked, “Don’t suppose you know your way home from here, Mina?”

“No?”

“Okay, cool.” Sonic gave a thumbs up and began walking away. “In that case, let’s get moving! Maybe you can help fill in some of those gray patches for me on the way.”

“Wait, what? I just said—” Mina clambered to her feet. “Wait, where are you going?”

Sonic swiveled to a backpedal, holding his arms out wide. The salted ocean air rushed over him in a breeze come up off the waves, rustling his spines and kicking the sand at his feet into whirlwinds. “I never ask that question,” he proudly declared. “I’ll find out when I get there!”

Mina jogged until she was caught up. “But how is just... running nowhere gonna solve anything?”

“It won't.” Sonic spun to face forward again and lifted a finger in the air. “ _But…_ if we can land ourselves a Chaos Emerald somewhere along the way, that’s your golden ticket home.”

“But how are we—”

“Don’t sweat the details,” Sonic said, grinning. “Just stick with me. I’ll get you home in no time.” He leaned over with outstretched hands. “Here, let me carry you.”

Mina looked from his arms to his face as they walked. Then her mouth curved into a wry smile. “I’ll pass.”

“You sure? Finding Emeralds is all about ground coverage, and we’d go a lot faster…”

“Go as fast as you wanna,” Mina said, lifting her chin. “I’ll keep up.”

Sonic raised his eyebrows. “You know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Believe me… I do.”

At her last remark, Mina lightly shoved Sonic and vanished in a spray of sand. Sonic winced and covered his eyes; then, lowering his hand, he tracked the purple streak spinning forward into the distance.

“Not bad, Mina. Not bad,” he mused.

He shuffled his feet into the sand until he felt his heel press up against some resistance, then leaned forward onto his outstretched fingers. “What do you think,” he said aloud, “five percent? Ten percent?” he rolled his shoulders to loosen them. “Let’s go with ten percent. Benefit of the doubt.”

He drew in a deep breath of the ocean air. Felt the heat of the sun’s rays reflected off the sand to the underside of his chin. Let his mind empty into a near-silence bounded by distant laughter and softly crashing waves. He released his breath. _Here… we…._

“GO!”

Over the burning white sand, past the humans and their frisbee, until the shimmering water blurred to a cyan mirror. The hard-angled ivory hotel was gone and in its place were rows and rows of onyx jetties flying past like measures for the up-tempo music of his run. The wind whipped away all sound but the heartbeat in his ears and the rushing breath in his throat.

He’d caught up with her already, on the winding narrow barrier sandbars footing lagoons that corralled the floral yellow and pink coral as paints gather on the palettes of masters. _Good form_ , he thought, _but the heel-strikes are a little uneven._

“Hey,” he called, “who taught you how to run like that?”

Mina’s steps stuttered, but she pinwheeled her arms for balance. She looked across at him with a look of sheer terror. “You did!”

Sonic nodded with a pensive frown. “Your form is good – I think you just need practice.” He pointed ahead. “Coming up’s this nice little stretch I like to call ‘The Gauntlet.’ You ready?”

“The _Gauntlet?!_ ”

Sonic gave an ok sign and hiked it up to twelve percent. _If she can match me here…_ He glanced back over his shoulder to see her tentatively gaining ground. _Yep. Okay, good._

“Heads up!”

The beach vanished from under them. They were suspended now, painintg high white waves over the glassy green-blue deep of the worldfree sea. Weathered pillars of brown volcanic rock painted with moss and algae whirred them on either side in the shallow stretch from the beach to a distant island, where a white lighthouse waited.

Sonic took care to sidestep a coral branch just breaking the surface when Mina flew past, arms outstretched and spinning, screaming, “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy”

“This is the Gauntlet!” Sonic called, laughing. “Try not to hit any rocks!”

Mina’s panicked words slurred into a flat scream as she started drifting to her left, off towards the island. Sonic adjusted his course, slipping beneath a stone archway to catch up – but as he drew near enough to catch her, the terror in Mina’s voice broke into bubbling, exhilarated laughs. Noticing him beside her, she turned her head to give a wide-eyed smile.

“Nice work! We’re almost there!”

Mina glanced ahead at the island – and at the broad cliff face just below the lighthouse. “Uhhh,” she said, looking down, “how do I stop?”

Sonic frowned. “What do you mean? You just stop!”

“Sonic, really! How do I stop! I forget!”

“Don’t worry, I got you!”

With a quick sidestep, Sonic grabbed Mina at the knees and back and scooped her up from the water. Her legs kept kicking for a moment before relaxing.

Carefully judging the distance to the beach, Sonic steadily slowed his pace. Then he quickly twisted his body such that the soles of his shoes were nearly flat against the water’s surface. A spray of saltwater burst into a brilliant rainbow cloud over him and Mina as the force gradually pushed Sonic upright – such that just as they reached the shallows of the beach, Sonic had slowed enough to walk forward onto the sand.

Mina hopped out of Sonic’s arms and teetered away, patting down at the purple salt-starched balloon her hair had become. Breathing heavily, she smacked her lips. “I think my tongue just got preserved.”

“Yeah… keeping the mouth closed, definitely a hard lesson to learn,” Sonic said. “Hey, but on the bright side, you’re dry now!”

“Try dry forever,” Mina said, still smacking her lips. She doubled over, elbows on her thighs. “And, I think I’m actually in shock. Like I think my heart actually stopped somewhere back in the Gauntlet.”

“Aw, come on, you weren’t bad out there at all,” Sonic said, looking back at the still-rippling wakes they’d cut in the shallows. “I think you clocked in at around fifteen.”

“Fifteen what?”

“Percent of my top speed!” Sonic grinned.

“Oh, good,” Mina nodded. “Glad I made it to the double digits.”

“You know, you say that… but not a lot of people have,” Sonic said. “Could probably count ‘em on my fingers. You got talent, kid.”

Mina shook her head as she stood upright. “Don’t call me ‘kid.’ We’re the same age.”

“You sure about that?”

“We’re both sixteen, right?” She squinted at him. “Wait… you _do_ look older.”

“Yeah.” Sonic scratched his cheek. “I can’t give you a hard number, but I’m pretty sure sixteen was a while ago.”

Mina put both hands to her face. “What is _happening_ right now? Am I actually dead? Is this all just a dream and I’m actually dead? Am I in a coma?”

“Hey hey, take it easy.” Sonic rested a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t freak out now, we’re only halfway there!”

“Halfway _where_?”

“Halfway to the Chaos Emerald!”

Mina slid out from under his hand. “Wait, seriously? There’s one nearby?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure. But I’ve got a pretty good feeling there’s something good right up ahead. Maybe… that way.” Sonic pointed up to the top of the lighthouse, then traced his finger along a crumbling marble bridge to a yawing cave mouth in the cliff face almost entirely hidden by a curtain of vines. “Past that there’s this neat little grove, and then a final stretch over some barrier islands to take us back around to the hotel.”

Mina looked at him with lips curled up in a cringe.

Sonic held out his hand. “What do you say, enough energy left for a little competition?”

“It's a competition now?”

“Nothin’ serious, you know, just a little footrace.”

“Oh, no.”

“Start here, end at the Big Loop.”

“The ‘Big Loop.’”

“It’s this huge stone hole the wind cut through a cliff. You can’t miss it.”

Mina shook her head, then paused, then shook her head again. “You know I haven’t practiced running in like, years, right? I joked about the heart attack just then but—”

“Nahh, don’t worry about it. You hit trouble, I’ll be right there to catch you. Just like before.” Sonic winked.

Mina stared blankly back at him. “If it comes down to me drowning or you catching me again, _please_ just let me drown. You can catch me at my funeral.”

“Harsh, but fair,” Sonic nodded. “Anyway, how ‘bout that race?”

“Fine.” Mina sighed. “Where are we starting?”

Sonic dragged his heel through the sand. “Right here. First one through the Big Loop wins. Count us down 3-2-1-Go, we’ll go on Go. You all set?”

“Yep, whatever you say...”

Sonic dropped into a push up, then stretched his right leg forward into a lunge. He shuffled his shoes backwards until his heels felt resistance, then stretched his fingers out to prop himself up on the sand. With a sidelong glance Mina carefully imitated his steps, wincing at the stretch of the lunge. Sonic looked over their immediate landscape.

“Okay… three—”

Sonic closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. _Wait._

“—two—”

Had he seen something? _Just now, by the lighthouse…_

“—one—”

Before his eyes closed. _Couldn’t have been._

“—G—”

“Wait!” Sonic opened his eyes.

Mina tripped forward over herself and landed face-first in the sand.

Sonic stood, wincing. “Ooo. Sorry.”

“Come _on_ , Sonic!” She lifted herself up on an elbow, furiously waving her free arm behind her. “You ask me to race—”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. This is important. I promise.”

“Yeah, it better be...”

Sonic strafed a few yards over and craned his neck to look past the outcropping of cliff just shielding the base of the lighthouse from view – and there it was. Barely visible, but that was undeniably it.

“This way,” Sonic said, offering a hand.

Mina picked herself up. Wiping sand from her clothes, she kept pace with Sonic as he rounded the cliff. They came upon a stout steel dome with a large, round switch on top. At four points around its hull were painted black insignias of a mustachioed face.

“Almost missed it,” Sonic said.

“Is this whose I think it is?”

"It’s an Eggman capsule.”“His robots round up any critters they can find and seal ‘em inside for later.”

“I thought you said he was gone for now?”

“Guess it was just wishful thinking.” Sonic shook his head. “I was so sure this time…” He shrugged, then effortlessly backflipped a few feet in the air to land on the capsule’s switch. With a hiss and a wave of steam, the capsule’s sides split at seamed panels and folded upwards to form the shape of a flower.

A few Beryllians came free of its confines, stumbling unevenly out of the oddly heavy mist. They blinked and shielded their eyes against the bright sunshine. Mina watched in confusion. They didn’t seem happy to be freed – they didn’t seem anything at all. Their faces were blank, and their legs appeared to quiver under their own weight.

Sonic flipped again from the lever to land beside her. “That’s weird,” he remarked.

“Yeah, it’s almost like they’re drunk.”

“Oh no, that’s normal. Eggman puts something in the gas to mess you up. It wears off, though.” Sonic looked passively over the dispersing crowd of about eight. “What’s weird is that there usually aren’t that many folks like you and me out here in…”

Sonic’s eyes were drawn to a dark-coated man among the crowd who had stepped out from the other side of the capsule. Though still partly obscured by the gas, he seemed to be walking towards them without any characteristic imbalance or lethargy.

He quickly drew close enough for Sonic to distinguish more details. His ears cut the profile of a jackal. His coat was primarily black, with distinctive white patterns around his ribs and muzzle. His boots and gloves shimmered with metal adornments, while a ruby red sword hung at his waist. And his eyes – perhaps his most striking feature – were mismatched. His left gold, his right blue.

He drew his lips to show sharp rows of teeth. “You must be my liberator.”

“That I am.”

“Then I am indebted to you. I must repay you.”

“Well, it was no biggie.” Sonic shrugged. “Just keep out of trouble next time.”

“No.” The jackal shook his head. “My code dictates I repay you, in service or in coin... I have no coin to offer, so I must render you a service.” He undid the clasp that held his sword to the black belt at his waist. He took it up in both palms, and holding it flat, kneeled before Sonic. He lowered his head. “I am a skilled mercenary and bounty hunter. Allow me to assist you in your current mission.”

Mina leaned over to Sonic’s shoulder. “I don’t like the look of this guy,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” Sonic whispered back. “He actually looks kinda familiar, it’s throwing me off.” Sonic cleared his throat. Aloud, he said: “Actually, dude, you don’t need to do this. Just—”

“You must accept my contract.”

“Uh, okay. Or…?”

“Or I will levy my debts another way.”

Sonic and Mina exchanged an uneasy glance. “Alright, then, welcome aboard, I guess. What’s your name?”

The jackal stood and returned his sword to his hip. “We jackals hold no labels. We are known only by our achievements.”

“Okay then, Mr. Got Captured.” Sonic gave a thumbs up. “I'm Sonic. We’re on the hunt for a Chaos Emerald so we can get Mina here home.”

Mina gave a nervous wave.

“Any ideas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the first chapter of Part 1: Hunting the Hero.
> 
> Made you look, didn't I? Yep, the Blue Blur's just fine. For now!
> 
> Apologies on the delay. I've been balancing this alongside some other work. Plus, this chapter was bizarrely difficult to write. I might have to skip this Tuesday's upload and just stop by Friday.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	12. Casinopolis

## 12 – Casinopolis

The cries of seagulls surrounded them on the walk back over the barrier sand to the resort. Mina and Sonic led the way, with the jackal following about ten yards back. The sun had already set, though a full moon kept the night bright.

When the familiar staircase architecture of the hotel had entered their sight, Mina glanced over her shoulder to be sure the jackal was far enough away before she asked Sonic: “A _heist?_ Seriously??”

Sonic shrugged. “You heard the guy. Only place in Station Square with enough security to hold down an Emerald would be the Casinopolis vault.”

“And you don’t think he seems a little _too_ confident about that.”

“How do you figure?”

“Like… he probably only knows it because he’s done a lot of stealing before? I mean, am I stupid, or did he not say he was a ‘mercenary?’”

“No yeah, he said it.”

“Doesn’t that mean he literally kills people for a living?”

“… I’m gonna level with you, I don’t know what the word means.” Sonic clasped his hands behind his head. “But the guy isn’t wrong, right? The casino’s probably our best, closest bet for getting you home.”

“Well, he might be right, but that doesn’t mean we have to listen to him,” Mina said. “Can’t we go someplace else? Like… try a different city, or just… look anywhere else?”

“Why? There a problem?”

“I… ugh. No.” Mina sighed. “Forget it.”

“Come on, really. If there’s a problem, lay it on me.”

“I’m just not the biggest fan of Overlanders, okay? They kinda creep me out.”

“The humans? Why, something happen to you?”

“No, not to me. I’ve never had any problems with them… _personally._ I’ve only ever met one, and she was okay. But I’ve heard a lot of things from my mom.”

Sonic glanced at her.

“Like… that you can't trust them, or that they’re elitists who're always gonna think less of us…”

Sonic frowned. “That doesn’t sound very cool of your mom.”

“I know, I used to think so too. But… I don’t know. She knows more about them than me, and now that we're here... She has her reasons, you know?”

“Doesn’t mean they need to be your reasons.”

“… yeah. I get it.” Mina gripped her fists as they set foot on the bluestone tiling of the resort patio. Her eyes flickered over the humans gathered by the outdoor pool. “I can do this,” she muttered. “I can do this, I can…”

“Sir. How will—”

Mina gasped and spun around. The jackal had appeared just a few feet behind them; he looked curiously down at her raised fists. Mina slowly and silently lowered them.

“Everything okay, here?”

“… yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Sir. How—”

Sonic held up a hand. “You don’t need to call me sir, dude. Sonic’s fine.”

“Sonic. How will we be getting to Casinopolis?”

“Uh, walking? It’s usually just on the other side of the hotel.”

“I see.”

“Wh-” Sonic looked between them. “Have _neither_ of you ever been here before?”

“Not everyone’s a world traveler, Sonic.”

“Well then, you’re missing out!” Sonic slid a keycard out of his glove and swiped it through a scanner beside a set of glass folding doors. They whirred open to show a marble-floored lobby. “I’d give you guys a tour of the place if we weren’t on a time crunch. There’s this huge train station on main street, and this great deli around the corner. They’ve got these _crazy_ good—”

“—chili dogs.”

“ _Exactly_.”

“Glad that one stayed in your head.”

“Well, it’s high-priority stuff!”

“Higher priority than me, apparently.”

“Hey, well, I’ll notice you barely helped fill in my other gray patches last run.”

“Sorry, I was too busy screaming?”

The group crossed over the lobby, where the metal tips of the jackal’s shoes clacked harshly on the white marble.

“So. I’ve been thinking about something.”

Mina's eyes bounced restlessly over the floor. “Mmm.”

“Cereal, right? You like it?”

“Sure?”

“Ever thought about what else could go in it besides milk?”

“No??”

Another set of sliding doors let them out to a bounded strip of apartments, where the enormous, blinking, incandescent-ridden sign of the CASINO waited. The yellow lights shifted through three or four patterns in their course along the gilded letters.

“Lemme put it this way, then. Picture this: you’re out of milk, but you still really want cereal. What do you use?”

“I don’t know. Water?”

“If you like soggy cardboard, go for it. How 'bout somethin' with a little _oomph_?”

“Okay… soda, then.”

“But don’t you think that’s just a bit too sweet?”

“Have you tried this yourself, or something? Is that where this is going?”

Sonic sprawled a hand over his chest in mock offense. "I'm sorry, am I _boring_ you?"

"No, keep talking. It's keeping me distracted."

“Alright. Well, it’s true: past few weeks, I’ve run trial after trial. In the name of science, you know?”

“You mean you kept forgetting to buy milk.”

“Yes. But by forgetting the milk, I learned something better. I know what it is — but I wanted to get your guess first. Since you’ve already guessed twice, you’ve got one left.”

“Fine. Is it—”

“Whoop! Hold that thought, we’re here!”

Sonic hopped forward to stand in the center of the gold crown logo embroidered into the red fabric of the casino’s street carpet. He held his arms wide before the glass doors.

“After you.”

The motion-activated doors slipped aside as the group of three entered. Unlike the gaudy and glowing exterior of the building, here in the high-ceilinged ballroom of the casino virtually empty of patrons, the atmosphere was quiet, thin and smoky. A persistent bass reverberated through hidden speakers. Silently, the slot machines and pinball systems and roulette wheels tumbled and shimmered and spun for no one. Water rippled over the marble planes of fenced fountains, overhead, television screens displayed worldwide sports from within their dark, ivy-carved cabinets. And at the room’s center, standing atop the pit’s hexagonal cashing booth…

“Hey! They kept my statue! Nice!”

A towering golden statue of Sonic, well over thirty feet tall, looked down at them through its deistic emerald eyes.

“Good grief,” Mina sighed.

“The machines seem to be in working order,” the jackal said, “but any clientele is absent.”

Mina looked around. “Are we… too early?”

“Vault’s this way, guys!” Sonic called from the other end of the room.

Mina and the jackal crossed to meet him. He guided them down a wide hallway, richly decorated with paintings, to the open door of a vault. Inside, a viewing platform took them a short distance out into the broad room, where glittering brass panels were riveted over nearly every square inch of wall. From where they stood, one could look up at an elevated platform of prizes – centered among them, on an embossed cushion, sat the gray Chaos Emerald.

“Well, that was easy.” Sonic crouched for a jump.

“Wait, Sonic. Shouldn’t we—”

Sonic sprang up, managing a neat flip in midair such that his feet would land on the high ledge just before the prize when there was a sudden flash of red light. He appeared to collide with thin air, and fell twenty feet to the floor of the vault with a _thud_.

Mina started. “Sonic!”

The jackal squinted, his eyes trained on the spot Sonic had begun to fall. Though it was barely visible, there was a sort of reverberating barrier. It was translucent, yet fuzzy, as though it were composed of thousands of split fibers. It crackled a moment, wobbled to rest, then faded totally from view.

“There appears to be some type of force field,” the jackal announced.

“No way dude, really?” Sonic pushed himself up from the ground. “Oogh.”

Mina stood, motionless, covering her face as Sonic ascended the steps back to the vault’s central platform. He flashed a guiltily cocky smile.

“Good start, right?”

“Oh, _great_ start.” Mina broke pose to smooth her shirt. “Great… great stuff.”

The jackal’s eyes were trained still on the Emerald’s containment unit. “We could try the ventilation shafts.”

“Okay, wait. So both of you are just _chill_ with flat-out stealing an Emerald? I mean, I don't really like these people, but is that not, like, a crime?? Would we not be criminals?”

The jackal looked to Sonic.

“Nah, we’re just borrowing it,” Sonic said. “I get the emerald, warp you home, wait around a few minutes, then warp back and drop it off. Like it never left.”

“This is like the third time you’ve said something like ‘get _you_ home.’ You know we live in the same place, right? Not—well, not the same place. The same city.”

“We do?” Sonic blinked.

“Yes. New Mobotropolis?” Mina waved a hand over his vacant eyes. “Are you… hello?”

“Just… it’s _just_ not comin’ to me, sorry." Sonic rubbed his chin. "So maybe it’s the brain damage speaking here, but I honestly don’t feel like I’ve lived any one place longer than… maybe a few months at a time.”

“I guess you’re not wrong. We’re usually on the run. But… the city _is_ our home. For now, it’s all we’ve really got.” Mina frowned. “Anyway, my point is, going home _should_ be a one-way trip. No… coming back to replace the Emerald. We’re going together.”

“Alright.” Sonic touched his nose, nodding. “Then, I guess we’ll have to win it legit. Ya hear that, jackal man?”

Mina and Sonic turned. The jackal had gone.

“Um... where did he go?”

“Didn’t he say…”

Sonic peered over the edge to where he had fallen earlier: one of the brass panels had been pried off, revealing a ventilation duct.

“Yep. Then it’s a race!”

Mina groaned. “Everything doesn’t have to be a race.”

“Nonsense.”

Sonic and Mina crossed back to the main room of the casino.

“So. How many rings you got on you?” Sonic looked over at Mina. “Even a few can get us started. Let’s build these dreams on pocket change!”

Mina blinked. “Uh, none. I don’t really carry rings, Sonic. That's more your thing.”

“Shoot. Well, let’s see.” Sonic opened his palm, revealing a small clip of ten dulled rings. “Looks like this is it.”

“How much are they worth here?”

“Uh, not a lot. Maybe one or two bets.”

Mina sighed. “Quick and painless, I guess.”

Sonic scanned the room. “Hey, there’s a new arcade section over there.”

“… so?”

“You said you were a singer, right?”

“Yeah, how is that… oh, no. No, no.”

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking??”

“No! I am not singing karaoke for my ride home! That’s—I just _walked_ _out of the ocean_ like five hours ago!”

“Well, unless there’s a game in there with a built-in treadmill, that’s our best bet for upping our ring count ‘fore we hit the tables.”

Mina set her pleading eyes on the entrance to the arcade. "This is so messed," she muttered - then, reached out her hand. Sonic placed the rings there, and the two walked in.

\---

When the rattling of steel grew the loudest, the jackal knew he’d arrived. Carefully maneuvering in the tight space of the ventilation shaft, he set his sword in below the edge of a panel and levered it… slowly… until the rivet head groaned free of its pin. And again… and when two were gone, he pushed his weight against the panel and warped it over itself to allow an escape route.

The howling wind rushed into the space, nearly knocking him off his balance. But he carefully returned the sword to its place at his hip, rebound its clasp… then jumped free of the duct, spreading his arms and legs wide.

The rising current of air, deafeningly loud in the broad cylindrical chamber, pushed up against his chest as might a firm cushion. He fanned out his fingers, allowing himself as much air resistance as he could – barely maintaining his buoyancy as he drifted over the spinning blades, distant in the floor below.

He wrapped his arms around his target – a crosswise steel girder – and lifted himself up to balance on it. The wind died down as the fan entered a brief cooldown period, and left in the relative quiet, he stared down through a snowstorm of discarded cellophane and newspaper to the broad, grimy fan blades grinding to their halt.

Stretching his arms out to the fingertips, the jackal began his walk: heel to toe, heel to toe, across the girder not five inches in width. _I’ll cross to that access platform,_ he thought, eyes set on the narrow iron bars of a service ladder. _That should take me to the electrical tunnels._

Yet, as his certain strides brought him single steps closer to that exit, and the wind again began to twist and howl around his unfaltering ankles, his mind wandered. _This contract… when it is finished, where will I go? I can’t recall anything… anything after that ambush in the desert._

Here at the roof of the chamber, there was a breathy silence above the deafening roar of wind below; and above that silence, ringing through the ducts just over his head, a voice:

_Ahhh hah, climb a mountain and turn around…_

_And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills…_

_Will a landslide bring you down?”_

The jackal reached out for the first rung of the ladder – but a quirk in the wind rushed suddenly up below him, and lifted his whole body, weightless, to the height of the second rung. With his arms alone, he scaled three more rungs – then brought his legs in line with the ladder and finished the ascent.

\---

“You weren’t kidding about that ‘lead singer’ stuff, huh? That was incredible!”

“No, _that_ was horrific.” Mina disembarked the karaoke platform even as the screen continued to tally her score. Through grit teeth, she muttered, “I’m not warmed up, I’m not anything. I didn’t know the song. I’m nothing. Never again.”

“Well, maybe this’ll cheer you up – check out our loot!”

Sonic held up a second clip of ten rings, for a total of twenty rings. He shook the ring clips in his hands on either side of a broad smile.

“That’s… it?”

Sonic looked again at the rings, bobbing his head the way someone might reexamine a paper after applying reading glasses. “Yeah... I guess I was hoping for more too, now that you say it.”

“I just sang a ten-ring gig,” Mina announced, in disbelief.

“Hey, gotta start somewhere! We're on house money now, baby - big time rings, here we come!”

“How many for the Emerald?”

Sonic cleared his throat. “400.”

“… what’s that, like, progress wise? 20 out of 400?”

“I dunno, I don’t really do math. Maybe 20%?”

“Oh, I guess that’s not too bad.”

“For sure. I think we’re ready for the big leagues.” Sonic hopped backwards towards the arcade entrance. “So what’s more your style? Slots, table, wheel?”

“Yeah, no. Just being anywhere near you is gambling enough. And, I promised myself never again!” Mina insisted, following. “Honestly, I’m still kinda grossed out at this whole... process. Just pick a game so we can get this over with.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’ll start havin’ fun once I hit my first streak of the night. Check it!”

\---

The jackal slipped into a narrow cement brick passage, crouching beneath an array of cables – stray plastic ties dragged over his scalp. _Access to the lights should be just up ahead,_ he thought. He placed each step warily, eyes grounded, in search of the drop to the vault ceiling.

Yet, the tunnel went on, disappearing forward into the dark. _Did I miscalculate? The vault should be just beneath me._ He looked over his shoulder. _Is there an alternate access?_

After a few moments, he continued forward. _There must be a local hub for the vault, to minimize security risk. I suppose I should’ve expected that… even so, there must be some access ahead._ He dragged his fingers along the walls. _This establishment must have better security than I'd thought. The failsafes... they almost remind me of an Eggman plant._

He blinked, then pulled his hands back from the walls. In the near-total dark, he couldn’t be sure, but… were they damp? He rubbed his fingertips against themselves. They were. _Condensation? No… they would have used galvanized steel on these supports. Then, what…_

He pressed his fingertips to the walls again in time to feel it: a thin vibration in the walls. Yet when the sound came, it was more like a rush of water. _Sewage pipes? Why would they be this far from the showers?_

He shook his head – he must have heard wrong. His stunted march continued.

\---

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

Rings poured out into the machine’s tray and an array of trumpets sounded. Three red 7s vibrated on their wheels as gaudy candy-colored lights flickered through a victory animation.

Sonic lifted his hand from the lever. “Yes! I told you third time’s the charm!”

“That was your _fifth_ time. AND our last four rings!” Mina shouted over the blaring brass. “How much did it even give us??”

Sonic cupped his hands to shuffle the rings out of the dispenser tray. “Uh… a hundred!”

Mina blinked. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Yes!” Sonic clapped and jumped up to stand on the stool. “This is how it starts, baby!”

\---

The air was getting thick with humidity. _If that water really was a ventilation issue... the failure’s systematic. There's water everywhere. It’s almost as if…_

The walls beside him vanished.

“… what?”

He rose uneasily in the sudden freedom, his palm plying out emptiness above him. The darkness here was impenetrable. The only sensation was a sound – a quivering, liquid sound, like water bulging at the lip of an overfilled cup.

Then, a light came. Slowly, a red light leaked up to illuminate the rough walls of a cave. The jackal looked to his feet – not a few inches from his shoes was a ledge, and a pool of rippling water. The light was coming from within it.

“What… is this?” the jackal felt his heartbeat quicken. _A sewer drain? It doesn’t make any sense. We’re above ground!_

The light was growing. He could see his hands clearly now. And, in the depths of the flesh-tone waters, a dark shape drifted. The jackal stepped back. _The water… is moving._

\---

“WOOOOO!”

Sonic and Mina exchanged a high-five at a green felt table as the lever arm of a dealing machine silently raked cards back to its shoe.

“Man, what are the odds the house just insta-busts like that, anyway?!”

“I don’t know! I have no idea how blackjack works!”

“250 rings, though?! Two-hundred-and-fifty rings?!”

Mina lifted her arms and spun on the stool. “Woohoohoo!”

“Hey!” Sonic lifted an accusatory finger. “No fun allowed. You promised! Stop that right now!”

“Ah shut up, I didn’t promise _you_ anything.” Mina retorted. She smiled faintly. “Besides, promises between us… tend to get broken. You should unforget that.”

Sonic lifted an eyebrow as the moment passed. He turned and pointed towards the roulette wheels on the far side of the room. “Shall we finish this?” he asked.

\---

_It’s coming._

The jackal’s shoulders scraped along the concrete walls of the access tunnel. The sound of his own breath – and rushing water. He twisted to look behind him, but saw… nothing. Total, uncompromising darkness. He turned back around…

In the floor, now, a square of light. _What?_ The jackal halted at its edge and peered down… the blinding white eye of a lamp waited. _This wasn’t here before._

Breathing, and rumbling water.

The jackal dropped.

\---

“Throw it all on black!”

Mina spun to face him. “What? All??”

“You heard me! All or nothing - I’ve got a good feeling about this one!”

Mina turned around to the keypad beside the whirling circular table. Carefully, she keyed in the number, and dropped in the clips of rings. The wheel slowed as the keypad displayed PROCESSING…

Then, it sprung again to life, the black and red swirling together until only the solitary diameter of green was distinguishable. A small steel ball sprung from a slot beneath the keypad, clattering as it danced over the thin steel borders and rocked through the wooden shallows. Black, or red? Black, or red?

The wheel was more like a loom in that moment: a loom, pedaled by an impartial machine, spinning instants out into minutes. As the ball lived, frantically bouncing between the possible outcomes, their future was inconstant, and undecided. Red, or black? Red, or black?

Anything from a twist in the air to a tremor in the earth could alter the fate of the ball even as it rode out its course to the lip of the table. Or even a flaw on the steel ball itself: a scratch, a smudge, some English. Black, or red? Red, or black?

Green.

Mina turned to look at Sonic, who reflected back her dead eyes and slack cheeks. They looked through one another for some time, floating through the mutual emptiness of a murdered opportunity, blinking occasionally.

“I saved us ten rings. I panicked,” Mina offered.

Sonic cleared his throat. “Way to go, champ. Guess you still got paid for that song, huh?”

“Guess we’re back to counting on creepy dog guy, more like.”

“He is pretty creepy.”

“ _So_ creepy.”

Sonic and Mina had just commenced their walk of shame to the vault when the jackal rushed out from it, breathing hard, with his sword readied in one hand - and the gray Chaos Emerald clutched in the other.

“Hey! Creep- I mean, the merc man did it!” Sonic announced. He jogged over with Mina in tow.

The jackal looked frantically to them. “Good. You’re both here.” He thrusted the Emerald into Sonic’s hands. “Take it, quickly.”

“Whoa. Catch your breath, man. Where’s the fire?”

“Not fire. Water.” The jackal looked over his shoulder. “Stay on guard. Something is coming.”

“'Something'?”

“I’m guessing _security,_ Sonic.” Mina pointed to the Emerald. "Hurry up, do your thing!"

“Yeah, just a second. I just wanna see...”

Sonic craned his neck, past the jackal, to the hallway. _It’s … empty?_

 _No._ There was something moving at the bottom of the door’s entrance… the carpet. It was glistening. Something pink was coming out of it now: a pink fluid, gurgling up from the floor like a fountain. And, something black suspended within. Why did this feel… familiar?

“Sonic, we have what we need, let’s just _go_!”

“Wait. I just wanna…”

A brain. The black mass was a brain, with spindling nerves trailing all along the pulsating pink liquid. Glowing red eyes emerged from clefts in the bubbling current.

“Chaos? But it's...”

“Sonic!” Mina gripped his arm. “Hurry! It’s coming!”

His eyes still set on the pink Chaos, Sonic turned and held his hand out to the jackal. “Grab on.”

The jackal obeyed.

The pink Chaos lunged down the vault hallway, almost already reaching the doors to the ballroom. Sonic closed his eyes: the warmth of the Chaos Emerald in his palm, and the pressure of the jackal and Mina's grip on either arm... “Alright everyone, hold on tight. I might be rusty.”

He drew in a deep breath. _Someplace safe,_ he thought. _Someplace far away._

“Chaos… Control!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this one.
> 
> Lore Note:  
> I've tried to make Rings more of a practical currency on Beryllia, roughly 1:1 with US dollars in value. To assist with this understanding as currency, Rings have two states: dormant and active. You're familiar with active Rings: they're big, golden loops that can spin, glitter, and move on their own. Once someone is in possession of a ring, they enter their dormant state: small (about the size of a real finger ring someone would use), and almost weightless. Dormant rings have weak magnetic properties and naturally bind together, with the most practical means of doing so being in ten-ring columns (aka "clips"). Ten of these "clips" can then be bound together to about the shape and size of a round lantern, and carried with a handle as such. These are called "sets". Humans don't generally recognize Rings as currency, seeing as they are far rarer on Earth - but Station Square, being the human colony on Beryllia, is an exception.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	13. Call to Arms

## 13 – Call to Arms

“Good morning.” Sally drew the door shut behind her.

“Not quite. Have a seat.”

Sally pulled back one of the chairs at the tactics room table and eased herself into it. Knuckles stared long moments through the office window before turning to look over the papers on his desk. He leafed over one and gestured with his free hand to the table.

“Made some coffee. Help yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Sally leaned forward to lift the tin percolator and tilted it over a simple ceramic mug, itself set on a territory branded BLUE COAST ZONE in thick block print. When the mug had filled with the steaming black liquid, she set the percolator back on MYSTIC MANSION ZONE and slid the cup over the EASTERN OCEAN towards herself.

“How are you healing?”

“I’ve had worse.” Sally gripped the mug and let it warm her hand. “Your medic said it was only skin deep. Ten stitches.”

“But you’re still on for the desert op?”

“I am.”

“Good.”

Sally sipped her coffee. “When do we move out?”

“About that.” Knuckles leaned over his desk. “I should tell you now there's not gonna be a 'we' on this op. I won’t be going.”

Sally tilted her head. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m doing just about everything I can to keep this place from imploding since my population more than _quadrupled_ in a night—”

“It didn’t quadruple,” Sally cut in. “Those refugees were already here.”

“They weren’t _this_ here. They weren’t eating-my-soldier’s-rations-here.” Knuckles pinched his nose. “Look. Twisting my arm into dropping the bridge might have seemed like a smart play when we had the wraiths at our doorstep but—”

“You pulled that lever yourself.”

“Yes. I did. I made that decision. Now, I’m facing the consequences.” He waved a hand to the window. “All five hundred and forty-three consequences. They need food, shelter, and medicine. So to put a real fine point on it, I’m not coming. You’re now commanding officer of the desert op. Clear?”

Sally leaned her head on her hand. “I appreciate the promotion. But Blaze, Rosy, and I aren’t well-equipped enough to tackle the wraith army ourselves. Especially when we’re all presently injured.”

“I know. Frankly, I think the injuries are proof you can’t ‘tackle’ them fully fit, either.” Knuckles lifted a mug on his desk from a spirograph of ring stains and downed a few gulps of coffee. “It’s why I’m giving you Tails.”

“You’re ‘giving’ him to me?”

“Yes. He’s no stranger to fighting, but he's not enlisted.” Knuckles took a seat on his desk and looked into his mug. “I can’t order him to go. You'll have to talk him into it.”

 _I should probably check on him either way,_ Sally thought. “I understand.”

“I’ll have someone show you the way to his room,” Knuckles said. “But when you get there, don’t bother testing the door. He hasn’t opened it in months.”

Sally blinked. “I see.”

Knuckles waited a moment with his eyes distant, then shook his head and leapt back off his desk. “That’s all I wanted you for. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Sally set her unfinished coffee on the table and stood. “Is the Sonic from this dimension… really dead?”

Knuckles sighed. “There’s been no sign of him since the Battle of the Iron Fortress. Tails and me – Tails, mostly – wasted a good three months after the war picking the world apart with drones looking for him. Nothing. Sonic hasn’t been gone this long since Eggman held him prisoner, and that’s far from likely right now. So either he’s dead, or he doesn’t want to be found; in which case, he’s as good as dead for my purposes in running this army.”

Sally waited for Knuckles to finish. “Still… there wasn’t a body?”

“No. Not that we've found.”

Sally nodded, hiding a faint smile with a hand. “Thanks. That’s— all I needed to hear.”

Knuckles shrugged, turning again to the stack of papers on his desk. “Believe whatever you want, I guess. Tails does.”

“I have one other question.”

“Shoot.”

“Does this operation have a name?”

“Not yet. But you're the boss, so… go nuts.”

\---

“Operation ‘Desert Freedom?’”

“That’s right.” Sally dragged a wooden chair between Blaze and Rosy’s beds – dropping into it, she rubbed her arms in the chilled morning air. The sun had only just begun to pour in over the eastward side of the fortress, leaving the courtyard and the improvised tables and tents of its field hospital in translucent shadow. The cold wasn’t helped by the thin white privacy curtain suspended a few feet around Blaze and Rosy’s bunks.

Blaze scratched her temple. “Are we… freeing the desert?”

“In a way, yes. Freeing it of the enemy.”

“Whassa a ‘operashun.’”

“It means ‘plan.’”

“Oh.”

“I thought we were incarcerating this one.”

“That’s… postponed.”

Blaze's eyes hardened. “Is it postponed, Sally, or is she just exculpated?”

“I don’t know these words!” Rosy shouted.

“It’s—” Sally held up a hand. “Knuckles isn’t coming with us.”

Blaze rolled her eyes. “How surprising. The hypocrite.”

“It’s not that simple. But my point here is, we need a heavy hitter. Rosy fits the bill.”

“Aww.”

“What of Tails? I heard he was on the battlefield last night.”

“Yes. He was the only reason we made it _off_ the battlefield last night,” Sally said. “I’m going to speak with him. Ideally, he can at least set us up with some tech to help the fight.”

“At least?” Blaze leaned forward. “Was he hurt?”

Sally hesitated at the sudden tension in Blaze’s voice. “No. He’s fine, physically. I just need to…”

Sally trailed off and turned her attention to a scuffling sound near Rosy.

“S’not me,” Rosy said.

Sally half-stood to look over Rosy’s bed. The tall white privacy curtain clipped up around her and Blaze’s area was moving – and a pair of small, rubber-sandaled feet were visible just beneath.

“Excuse me,” Sally called. “Could you come out from over there?”

After a moment, a stout bear child stepped out from behind the curtain.

Sally smiled. “Hello.”

The child stared at her with wide eyes.

“Can we help you?”

“I just came t-to see Princess Blaze,” he said.

“On official business?” Sally raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, n-no… I heard she was in in this t-tent.” He craned his neck to look past Rosy. “I wanted T-t-to thank her for…”

“Don’t bother,” Blaze called over. "Show yourself out."

Sally mimed offense to Blaze. The child lowered his head.

“Go on,” Blaze said, rubbing her eyes.

Sally circled Rosy’s bed and lightly touched him on the shoulder to steer him towards the entrance. She stepped outside with him to the softly murmuring flowing crowd of refugees gathered on the field. Holding her side, she crouched behind him. He turned to face her.

“Princess Blaze appreciates your thanks,” Sally said.

“But, she just—”

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Sally pat him on the shoulder. “The Princess just needs time to heal after her fight.”

“Oh.”

“Go find your family – and don’t snoop, going forward. It’s impolite.”

Sally watched the child go before she ducked back inside.

“What was that all about?”

“We don't need distractions,” Blaze stated.

“It was just a kid who wanted to thank you. Why turn him away?”

“Because I don’t need children wandering in to validate me with their homage. I’m already mediating enough of a headache being caged in here with your pet psychopath.”

Sally sighed.

“Hey,” Rosy said. “I’m not a pet.”

“We still need to talk about Desert Freedom,” Sally said, returning to her seat.

“We can skip the premise,” Blaze said. “You, myself, this one, and possibly Tails are marching into the desert to locate the Sol Emerald.”

“ _And_ exterminate the wraiths.”

“Yes,” Blaze conceded.

“So, let’s focus on the ‘marching’ part – I need to know if you two are fit for travel. Rosy, how are your injuries?”

“Injuries?”

“… from when you were dogpiled and knocked unconscious by wraiths.” Sally looked to Blaze. “I had just assumed she was…?”

“The nurses described her as barely wounded,” Blaze said, “and any residuals healed within a matter of hours.”

“Wow,” Sally said. Her hand hovered over the stitches in her side. “That’s… a little terrifying.”

“Only cost me all my brains.” Rosy winked and waggled her tongue.

“Blaze, how about you? Your legs, are they—”

“Improving,” Blaze said. “They’ll be healed by tonight.”

Sally blinked, nodded, then stood from her seat. “Okay, then. In that case, we’re cleared to move out tomorrow, 0600 hours. We’ll make the most of our daylight.”

“Wait, Sally.” Blaze leaned forward, carefully shifting her legs over the white linens of the bed. “I see blood on that gauze. You’re still injured.”

“I’m working on a fix,” Sally said. “Or – Nicole is.”

“I’ve sanitized a culture of nanites and implanted them in the polypropylene suture wire,” Nicole said aloud. “It should be able to keep the stitches from tearing in combat, and minimize blood loss, but… I’m afraid I can’t service the pain.”

Blaze pursed her lips. She held her eyes on Sally for a moment, then glanced up to the blue sky above, bounded in on all sides by the linen-draped rail of the privacy curtain.

“I’ve been pondering a question, Princess Sally. My ideas on it are undeveloped yet – I intend to share them with you at a later time. But… I’m realizing now that the question is as pertinent to my approach with that child as it is in nearly every area of my life. I encourage you to ponder it as well.” Blaze lowered her head again, to make eye contact with Sally. In her lap, her thumbs glided smoothly over her fingers. “In this multiverse… are you a _hero_ , or a _ruler_?”

Sally blinked. “You can’t be both?”

Blaze eased herself back on her elbows, then reclined until she lay flat on the bed. “Think on it, Sally.”

\---

“Right here, ma’am.”

“Thank you. That'll be all.”

The soldier jogged back through the winding series of partially collapsed ordinance rooms they’d traversed to reach the tall steel door now standing before Sally. Its hinges and plating, silvery under the harsh fluorescent light, contrasted the mossy concrete floor and walls; like much of the castle’s defenses, it had apparently been retrofitted to some sort of bunker room. The air smelled of damp sawdust.

Sally rapped her knuckles above the handle.

“Tails?”

“Yes?”

Sally started and looked beside the door, to the source of the static-fringed voice. Narrowly visible behind a spool of copper wire and other hardware, the red light of a small intercom speaker blinked. Sally gripped the wooden top of the spool and dragged it aside, then leaned forward to press the green button.

“Tails? It’s Sally.”

“Yes, I know. I can see you.”

Sally looked up at the ceiling. In the corner to her left, a miniature camera was barely visible between stacks of plastic sawblade cases. “Would you mind talking with me about something?”

“The desert mission?”

“Yes, that’s right. Did Knuckles tell you?”

“No, I just... run surveillance here. So I, uh, heard you talking.”

“Oh.” Sally blinked. “How much do you know about it?”

“Well… you’re getting rid of the wraiths, so Knuckles helps you get home,” Tails said, “and Blaze is looking for the Sol Emerald. And, you… triangulated those EM singularities?”

Nicole flashed two waveform diagrams, labeled WRAITH_1 and SOL_1, in Sally’s HUD. “Yes.”

“Using… that handheld computer?”

Sally glanced down at Nicole’s PDA. Hesitantly, she replied, “Yes.”

“So… the Emerald's is easy, but how did you isolate a pure enough radiation sample from the wraiths?” Tails’ voice briefly sped up. “I’ve tried, but they… um… they don’t cooperate… it gets all fuzzy.”

Sally shifted on her feet. “My ‘computer’ and I were partially absorbed by one of them, two days ago. We managed to gather some data from the inside during the encounter.”

“Oh,” Tails said. “I never thought, to-well, I didn’t— I didn’t think of doing that.”

“I don’t recommend it. It wasn’t a... voluntary process.”

“Oh.”

A few beats passed. Sally took a seat on a crate near the intercom and mulled over her next words. _Do I ask him to come with us now? Of course, he wouldn’t even consider it if he doesn’t want to come out of his room at all… Maybe I just ask for his support, no expectations?_

“So you, um, came from a meteor?”

Sally arrested her train of thought to reply. “Yes, it would seem that way.”

“And, you said you wanted to— to gather the people like you? To go back together.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Okay. Well, last night, I put something together… here.”

Nicole’s voice buzzed in the eyepiece. “Sally, I’m receiving a transmission. Short-wavelength UHF – a small file.”

Sally briefly eased her thumb off the intercom button. “Show me,” she whispered.

“Decrypting now…”

“Did you get it?”

“Just a moment.”

“Sally, I’m afraid there isn’t much to show you. It appears to be a simple set of roughly 400 ordered pairs.”

“Okay, I have it, Tails… but could I ask what ‘it’ is?”

“Coordinates,” Tails replied. A beat passed. “Oh wait, you don’t—”

“Yeah. No map, yet.”

“—yeah. Sorry, I’m dumb… here. Sending it now.”

“You’re not dumb, Tails,” Sally murmured.

An image loaded in stripes across Sally’s HUD: a map with close resemblance to Knuckles’ table. A continent taller than it was wide, with a myriad of islands off its southern coast. The moment it had finished loading, small red radar points began to populate the southern region. “I’m loading rounded coordinate values on a per-pixel basis now, Sally.”

“Do you see it?”

“Yes.” Sally blinked. “What are these places?”

“Meteor impact sites,” Tails answered. “I, um, reused an interferometer seismograph I built to track Death Egg Robots during the war… uh… to record those. Over about two months.”

“He constructed a stable interferometer here?” Nicole marveled.

“Nicole, could you zoom in on the southern coast?”

“… Nicole?”

Sally’s eyes shot to the intercom button, still depressed under her thumb. “Oh, shoot.”

“Is— Is there someone else there? I can’t see them,” Tails said.

“No, Nicole is…” Sally hesitated a moment, then drew the PDA from her waist lifted it to show it to the camera. “She’s right here.”

“Oh. So, a… voice interface?”

Sally waited through a few beats of silence, hoping Nicole would prompt her with an answer. She defaulted to: “Sure.”

Nicole wordlessly zoomed in on Sally’s specified area. Sally refocused her attention – and felt her breath slow as the gravity of the image began to sank in. The half-thousand little red points were concentrated just a hundred miles back from the southern coast, where that border between desert and grassland she had traversed yesterday ran all the way to the sea.

“Were all the meteors just in this area?”

“… all the ones I know of. Could be more,” Tails said. “The seismograph is a little limited… the— um, the margin of error gets too big far out. I can’t use that data.”

“I see.” Sally ran her fingers through her hair. Four hundred. _At least_ four hundred people, spread out over a hundred-mile radius. _Where do I even begin?_ Then, something in her mind shifted – the way branches shift and rumble overhead, under the force of a new wind. _It doesn’t add up._

“Tails. If there are this many people arriving here from my dimension, in that little time, in this _specific_ region… why isn’t a single one of them among the refugees outside?”

“Um… I mean...” Tails said, “How would you tell?”

“I can tell,” Sally assured him. _They’d recognize me._

“Well… I did send drones out to some of the nearby sites, when this was starting, ‘cause Knuckles said to, and, um… well, so far, they’ve… they’ve all been empty.”

Some time passed as Sally stared through at the points of light on her invisible map, surrounded by the spare supplies and the damp underground air, burning with fluorescent light. _They’ve all been empty. Then, how is it that Rosy and I…_

“So I— I guess things are getting kinda crazy again, huh?” Tails said.

“Bit of an understatement,” Sally muttered.

“Yeah… sorry,” Tails said. “I don’t know… I was uh, kinda hoping things would get easier after we won, but…”

Sally reached her left hand across to detach her eyepiece and rubbed the heel of her palm over her brow. “Not how the world works, right? Or... _worlds_.”

“… am I the same there?” Tails asked. “Where you’re from… like Knuckles?”

Sally looked down to the intercom. “As far as I can tell, yes.”

“And… we’re friends?”

She smiled. “We’re practically family.”

“Oh,” Tails said. The scruff of the speaker hid any emotion in his voice, but there was something to the hesitation. A few heartbeats passed. “… then, I want to go.”

Sally blinked. “Go?”

“Uh, on the mission.”

“Oh! The mission,” Sally said, stumbling back into her purpose. “Of course. We’d love to have you.”

“What—what time do you leave?”

“We move out at 6:00, tomorrow morning. We’ll be by the gate.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.”

The intercom light abruptly dimmed. Sally lifted her finger from its switch and looked back to the tall steel door. She reequipped her eyepiece and stood, stretching her arms.

“Sally?”

“Yes, sorry about that, Nicole, I—”

“It's forgiven,” Nicole said. “Really, I know I recommended we refrain from introducing me here, but I genuinely can’t imagine a situation where we can’t trust Tails.”

“I know,” Sally said. “Then, why don’t you introduce yourself to him once—”

“Sally?”

Sally spun back to the door. The intercom light had returned. She leaned over to press its switch: “Yes, Tails?”

“You don’t believe it either… right?”

Sally, suddenly aware of the pressure through her thumb and the thumping pain in her side, waited some heartbeats before her answer. “I don’t think I do, Tails.”

“Okay.” Tails’ voice grew smaller within the speaker. His last words were thin and distant, like the withering call of a placated ghost: “… thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, back to Sally's crew for a bit. Imagine, a world where I upload on time.
> 
> I might have to adjust my chapter count. Current projections show the story will more than likely end up around 84 chapters, rather than the initially planned 40.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	14. Operation Desert Freedom

## 14 – Operation Desert Freedom

“You’ve got ten days’ worth of MREs for four people,” Knuckles said, resting his hand on a roped crate about the height of his chest. “You ration the water well, these three drums will last you the same amount of time.” He gestured to a set of stout, broad steel drums beside him. “I can’t imagine this is a cause you’re bent on dying for, so if you’re five days out and there’s no sign of the source, turn back.”

“Right.”

At the sound of a distant thumping, Knuckles turned to look along the side of the castle. “Here he comes.”

In the distance, Tails’ blue mech rounded the edge of the castle moat.

“I still don’t know how you did it.”

“I don’t think I had anything to do with it,” Sally said. “He decided things for himself.” At Knuckles' disbelieving frown, Sally added, "Really."

“Well…” Knuckles rubbed his forehead. “Whatever.”

Sally squinted. “It’s funny – even the design of his machines here is similar. That one looks almost like a Tornado with legs.”

“It is.”

“What?”

“Actually, I think he calls that one the Cyclone.” Knuckles snorted. “But yeah, it's a plane with legs. One of a series, where all the names are the same. Tornado 1 and 2, Cyclone, Blue Cyclone… shame the however many models he’s got idling down in the hangar would be useless to you. Between the sandstorms and the Mist, Eggman’s desert has eaten a good dozen of our survey drones. So flying out there is proven suicide.”

“Why call it ‘Eggman’s Desert,’ may I ask?”

“Because he created the nasty thing. This thousand-square-mile stretch, anyway. Late as two years ago, all the land you’re seeing here was perfectly intact. Not a grain of sand in sight. Then, a few hundred miles out that way, the original border of the Badlands desert started bleeding into Green Hill. Tails said let it go, it’ll fix itself. He figured it was a side effect of Eggman’s latest scheme, which was sucking the life out of the planet—”

“Wow.”

“—yeah. Don’t ask me, I think I died partway through. Either way, we just let it go. Everyone ‘needed a break.’ Then, maybe a year into that break, we realize things have only gotten worse. As they always do. When everyone takes a break.” Knuckles stretched his jaw. “At that point, the desert was just fifty miles out from Beryllia City, and of course it’s only then I get the call from Rouge, and… anyway, I’ll skip the war stories. Point is, we found out it was Eggman behind the moving desert the entire time. What he did was: he'd build these pyramid bases at the border, drain all the water for a few miles around, moving the border up. Rinse and repeat.”

Sally wrinkled her brow. “Robotnik was never a _rational_ conqueror, but what did he have to gain from just.... destroying the land?”

Knuckles eyed her a moment, then thumped his fist on a water drum beside him. A bass, metallic buzz – then a liquid echo. “Hear that?” Knuckles asked. “That’s the life tax: water. You wanna stay alive in the desert? You better bring enough _water_ to pay the life tax. Robots? They don’t need water. They don’t drink, they don’t eat, they don’t sleep. They don’t have to pay the life tax. In the desert, where the tax for us is highest, they have the advantage. Simple as that. So Eggman dried up everything from here to the Badlands to give himself that leg up on us – didn’t matter how many lives he paved over getting it. He inched the strategic lead all the way up to Beryllia City and took it in a matter of hours.”

Sally pressed her lips together and nodded, absently rubbing the gauze pad over her side. “I understand.”

“Yeah. Of course, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone, seeing as he was working out of the Badlands for as long as anyone could remember. What— what other bases did he have out there. Hot Crater, Bullet Station, literally Secret Base Zone? The list goes on. But everyone was amazed! Jaw on the floor! The desert was Eggman?! As if they couldn’t _imagine_ him dragging his advantage out to us! Idiots.”

Blaze chimed in from a few feet away, where she was reclining against the drawbridge chain. “If you were so perceptive, Knuckles, why didn’t you prepare any defenses at the city? Or at minimum, launch an investigation?”

“Because I’m not in charge of the city, for one. I happen to be the Guardian of Angel Island! I have other responsibilities! And as for an investigation; no matter how much advice I _hurl_ at people down here about being proactive, no one ever listens to me!”

“Perhaps they’ve all just gone deaf from your shouting.”

“What?” Rosy shouted. 

Knuckles shook his head.

“Is everything okay?”

Sally turned her eyes to Tails’ mech. She noticed a few changes since she’d last seen it two days ago – the most notable being that his cockpit window was now silvery and opaque. “Yes, Tails. Everything’s fine,” she said. “We’re glad to have you.”

“And you’re actually in there this time?" Knuckles craned his neck. "I can’t see you.”

“Well… I coated the glass with a silver nitrate compound to make it reflective, so, um, the cockpit won’t get as hot in the desert.”

“Uh huh.” Knuckles crossed his arms. “If that’s all, why don’t you hop out and greet your teammates before things get underway?”

“… um…”

“Remember what I told you about trusting your team, Tails?”

“It’s okay,” Sally cut in. She shot Knuckles a warning look. “Tails. You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you just help load our supplies here so we can get going?”

“Um... sure.”

Knuckles stepped aside as the Cyclone crossed over to the water drums. With a prolonged hiss of steam, the machine’s legs slowly folded beneath it. When it had reached ground level, a panel dropped open to reveal a trunk in the hull – Knuckles promptly lifted the first drum of water and loaded it in.

“Sally,” Blaze said. “Would you care to repeat our plans, regarding travel?”

“Right, so…” Sally pointed to herself and Rosy. “Rosy and I will take my bike – I’ve modified the treads for grip on the sand. Tails, how fast can that walker move?”

“About— about 20 miles an hour.”

“Okay, good. Blaze, can you hold that pace?”

“Easily.”

“Great. Then just be sure to keep lower to the ground - given how the drones fared.”

“That reminds me,” Knuckles said, dusting his hands after loading the last crate of supplies. “Since when could you fly? I only ever saw you hover. Like me.”

Blaze eyed him a moment, adjusting the frilled cuffs of her gloves. “I developed the ability through my training with the Sols,” she said. “I imagine you might be capable of something similar, if you were to spend any time training with your own source of power.”

Knuckles tilted his head. “What, like if I just meditate with the Master Emerald long enough, I’ll suddenly know how to fly?”

“The multiverse works in mysterious ways.” Blaze shrugged.

“… getting back to our travel plans: daily schedules,” Sally said. “From what I’ve gathered, wraiths only ever attack between dusk and dawn, inclusive. This means daytime is safe for travel, but nighttime is _not_ safe for rest. So, here’s my idea of a timetable: travel from 6:30 –that’s now – until 11:00, then rest for 5 hours until 4:00, then we move again until 8:00, at which point we settle in for the night. During the night, we keep vigil. Always at least one person watches, while the others sleep. We can work out shifts then.”

“I can – uh, do the vigils pretty easy,” Tails said. “I can set the Cyclone to autopilot during the day… and sleep, then. So I can stay up at night.”

“That’s... a good idea, Tails,” Sally said, “but I wouldn’t implement it yet. Why don’t we see how this first day goes?”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Okay, any other questions?”

“How long till we get there?” Rosy asked.

“Good question, Rosy,” Sally glanced up at the edge of her HUD, to an icon of the map Tails had shared earlier. Once Nicole had registered the angle of Sally’s eyes, she blew the image up to the whole of the eyepiece screen. The few dozen blinking red points spanning the patchy desert were bookended by the star logo of Resistance HQ, and the ominous red bullseye of their target: the waveform singularity.  “It’s about a 350 mile trek,” she answered. “With 8 hours of travel a day at 20 miles an hour, we can hope to make it there in 3 days.”

“Do it in two,” Knuckles said. “I don’t know that I can keep this place standing for six.” He offered his hand.

Sally shook it, offering a half-pitied smile for Knuckles' closest attempt at humor. “It’s good to be working with you again, Knuckles.”

“Again? Something get the other me?”

“Hm? Oh, no, not at all. He’s fine, last I heard,” Sally said. “Just busy with other things.”

Knuckles shrugged. “Story of my life.”

Silently, Blaze stepped forward to offer her own hand.

Knuckles eyed it. “This is a first.”

“It’s a farewell,” Blaze said. "You may not see me again for some time. Assuming a mission success, I won’t be returning.”

“Right.” Knuckles drawled. “Once you’ve got your mitts on number 7, you’ll be blasting back off into space, huh?”

“Yes. As we’ve agreed.” Blaze squinted.

Invisible, yet palpable tension spanned the air like a taut tennis net from Blaze’s outstretched hand to Knuckles’ unwavering purple eyes. It seemed to last even through Knuckles’ ultimately relented handshake – as his enormous palm totally eclipsed Blaze’s glove, their eyes balanced their borderline contemptuous contact.

“Put a good word in for me with your higher court, yeah?” Knuckles said. “Now that our refugee crisis has gone ‘interdimensional,’ maybe stopping by HQ will be more their speed.”

“I wouldn’t bate my breath anticipating an individual contact. _If_ and when we take action… you’ll know.” Blaze said. “ Best of luck.”

Knuckles pressed his lips. “Right.” He glanced up at the cockpit of the idling Cyclone. “Stay safe out there, Tails.”

“Yeah.”

With a final wave, Knuckles crossed back over the drawbridge to the arch of the castle entrance. Distantly, the white cloth of the field hospital flapped over the dull grass of the courtyard. Sally’s eyes wandered to the control tower overhead, with its steel plating grafted over cracked stone – then beyond it, to dome of the pearl-gray sky.

It was strange. Though she’d heard the phrase “foreign sky,” perhaps on the part of her father, she’d never understood it. She had traveled the far edges of Mobius, certainly, but if she’d ever found one point of confidence and comfort – one lodestar of solidarity – it had been the sky. Whatever the weather, whatever the shade of blue, she could always lift her chin to see the same celestial roof that spanned oceans and continents to her home. But… not here.

“Um… I’ve also got something here for you guys.”

Sally woke from her thoughts as she looked across to Tails’ machine. A compartment in the hull had opened, revealing a steel dowel with three thin wires around it.

Blaze stepped forward. “What are they?”

“Um, communicators,” Tails said. “You put them inside your glove. They work up to 800 feet… all set to the same channel.”

Blaze gently slid the wires off the dowel. Rosy eagerly extended her wrist – ignoring her, Blaze passed two of them to Sally and installed her own. Quieting Rosy’s immediate protest, Sally helped her fit it beneath her cuff.

“We don’t have a sat— a satellite network, so we can’t contact HQ out there,” Tails explained.

“No worries. We’ll get it done.” Sally adjusted her glove, then wiped her eyepiece right to left – Nicole’s nanites buzzed a bit longer as a goggle frame closed around her eyes. “I think we’re good to go.”

Rosy eagerly boarded the rear seat of Sally’s motorcycle. Blaze straightened her back, holding a careful balance as the first flames beneath her feet screeched out between her soles and the bridge’s cement bolster. Tails’ walker hissed and spun on hidden wheels to face the desert.

Sally boarded her motorcycle, finding her gaze drawn back up to the far horizon. Though the setting and the faces around her were familiar, what lay before and above her now was, unavoidably and inescapably, a foreign sky – and this mission was her first certain step home.

“Alright team – let’s move out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief chapter here. Mostly a recap of events from Knuckles and Tails' perspective, setup for the upcoming journey, and some mechanics and limitations of the gang's current gear. As something of an author's note - I really hate plot holes. Really, I do. As a preemptive measure against them, I try to outline strict limitations on our heroes and go into occasionally painstaking detail on their situation. So you'll have to forgive this occasional drag of a chapter.
> 
> I would describe this as the last "slow" chapter of Part 1. From here on out, things will get wild. Strap in.
> 
> Back to Sonic next week.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	15. Ice Cap

## 15 – Ice Cap

“Everyone make it through?”

“Here,” Mina groaned.

“… present.”

A distant, echoing drip underpinned the silence.

“Sonic, what _was_ that? Where’d you take us??”

“Uh…”

Sonic blinked, to confirm his eyes were open. _No… yep, it’s just pitch black._

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. Please please please don’t tell me you just warped us someplace you don’t even know.”

“Alright, look, there was a bit of a time crunch—”

“Because you waited to the last—ohhh my god, why is it so cold in here? And dark? Are we underground? Did you _bury_ us??”

 A sudden flash of blue light flushed out the darkness. Glassy walls of ice just a few feet from their arms stretched up and on to obscurity; to opposite sides, the selfsame walls wound a wavy course – a natural corridor.

Sonic traced the brightness of the glittering ice to its source: the jackal. The gem seated at the center of his sword’s crossguard emitted the vibrant blue light around them.

“Cool sword,” Sonic said.

“The gem glows naturally in darkness.” The jackal turned the sword over.

“Is it magic? I had a friend who was a magic sword.”

“It’s not a magic sword,” the jackal muttered.

“Um… hi.” Mina waved to Sonic. “I’m still here. Got questions.”

“Hey, wassup.”

“ _Where_ are we?”

Sonic swiveled on his heels, taking in the sights. “Uh… looks like Ice Cap Zone? Maybe? Angel Island.”

“You mean, like… Knuckles’ Angel Island?”

“Yeah.”

“And you took us here, because…?”

“I was just tryna think of anyplace safe.” Sonic rubbed his chin. “I don’t think it’s… _unsafe_ here, per se. No pink lemonade monsters.”

“Yeah, and what was that thing?”

“Looked like Chaos, an ancient water spirit I know. Only… meaner. And I don’t think I got that vibe from the palette swap alone.”

“It shouldn’t have been there,” the jackal said. He tapped the wall of the corridor with the steel tips of his glove. “While I was navigating the ventilation shaft to the other end of the vault, I found a room that would have been… architecturally impossible.”

“What does that mean?”

The jackal frowned, then shook his head. “I’m still asking myself that question.”

Sonic idly tapped his foot against the ground, filling the cavern with a reverberating beat. “That looked like Chaos _0_ , too. Guess he’s after the Chaos Emeralds.”

“What? Why?”

“When Chaos gets mad – like he seems to be now – he tries to collect the Emeralds. He gets all seven and very, very bad things happen.” Sonic shrugged. “But, it’s whatever. He’s probably thousands of miles away now and we’ve got our insurance riiiiight here.”

Sonic spun the gray Emerald on the tip of his finger. Mina eyed it – and him – warily.

“If you say so.”

The jackal turned and walked a few steps away.

“Hey, where ya goin’, uh…”

“There’s an air current here. This way is upwind.” The jackal pointed his sword down the corridor in the direction he was moving. “That means the closest exit.”

“Oh.” Sonic tilted his head back, focusing intently on his quills – they were, as the jackal had promised, twitching very slightly. “Good thinking.”

“And, if you’re still lacking for a name, you can call me the Ultimate Mercenary.”

The jackal processed down the winding hall, walking the blade of shadow between the two hemispheres of light from his crossguard. Mina and Sonic followed some ten paces behind.

“Title’s a little much,” Sonic whispered.

“Yeah, a little?” Shuddering, Mina crossed her arms to rub her shoulders. “And now what, we’re stuck here with the guy? Is that what’s happening?”

“Nah, I can warp us back out with the Emerald whenever.” Sonic flashed the reflective faces of the crystal in his hand.

Mina looked to him. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Well, there’s sort of a cooldown on it. I still need a few minutes.”

“As long as you actually take us home this time…”

“Also, I’m not ditching Ulty Merc in this glacier – if I’m reading between your lines, here.”

Mina shrugged. “Just saying… he seems dangerous.”

“No way. He’s a total softie on the inside – anybody callin' themselves "Ultimate" is. It's a rule. Watch this.” Sonic cupped his hands over his mouth, and breaking his hushed tone, hollered ahead: “Hey Mr. Ultimate!”

The jackal flinched. “What is it?”

“Tell us about yourself. What’s your story?”

After a few beats, he answered: “No story to tell. Sir.”

“Ooof. Ya feel that, Mina? I think it just got ten degrees colder in here.” Sonic elbowed Mina, who quickly slapped his arm away. “Look, buddy. We’re stuck in an ice cave on a flying island over the middle of an ocean. No help in sight. And, there might be a God of Destruction after us. That means…”

“That we’re doomed?”

“… that we’re on an _adventure_. And if we’re on an adventure together, that makes you our friend. I don’t make the rules.”

“We are not friends. I’m bound to serve you until the girl is returned safely home. These are our terms. No more, no less.”

Sonic sighed. “Alright, dude.”

They walked in silence for another minute. As they turned a slight corner, Sonic blinked. _The sword’s getting… brighter? No… it’s light, from the hallway ahead._

“Mister… Ultimate Mercenary,” Mina began, delicately pacing the syllables. “Can I ask why you care so much about this contract?”

The jackal glanced back at her, his blue eye hanging in the center of his ghostly blue face. He held his silent stare a moment. Then: “We jackals are a society of thieves and murderers. Debt reckoning – our contracts – are the only rules that bind us. You can kill and steal from whomever you wish, such is your right, but if someone renders you a significant service, you are indebted to them. The same is true of the reverse. In these events, the debtor must form a contract then and there, and must fulfill its terms.”

“Or else…?”

“Or they will be hunted down by every other jackal living. The continued existence of a trespassed debtor stands as a black mark on our code.”

“… what if the guy you save is… really cool, and just lets you go?”

The jackal hesitated. “… even if the creditor refuses to recognize them, a debtor may not hold any outstanding debt. Not to any man… living.” The jackal slipped the sword back into its clasp, and abruptly stated, “We’re here.”

They stood now at a narrowed point of the cavern, where the rippling mirror walls of ice blended into a texture of scored white snow. The somber blue light of the jackal’s sword had faded; instead stark daylight bled in, through a wooden lattice propped across a stout exit. At the edges of the threshold, a whistling wind crept in.

Mina blinked as her eyes adjusted. “It’s so bright… but, didn’t the sun just set?”

“Well, Angel Island could be on the other side of the planet, this time of day.” Sonic’s gaze meandered from the small door set in the wooden lattice to the three colored planks hooked on the wall beside it. “Hey… heheh, I’ve been here before.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“Well, I mean… I can only Chaos Control to places I’ve been. So yeah, I’ve been in this cave before. But I mean… I remember _this_ spot, this spot right here!” Sonic gripped two of the planks and lifted them from the wall. He offered one to both Mina and the jackal, grinning.

Mina hesitantly accepted the red board. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

The jackal silently took the yellow.

Sonic swiveled and grabbed the blue board from the wall. “Just out of curiosity here,” he said, backpedaling to the exit, “when’s the last time you guys went snowboarding?”

“Never.” “… what’s snowboarding??”

“Alright, well… in that case, this ride could get a little bumpy, so just stick close and follow my lead, okay? Goes for both of you.” The wooded lattice groaned as Sonic leaned up against it, fastening a cloth strap from the board over his sneaker.

“Wait, what ‘ride’? What are you—”

Flashing a grin, Sonic slammed his hand down over a metal clasp on the lattice, flipping it open behind him. He fell backward, leaving behind a bright, empty square of hazy sky. Echoing back after, his fading scream: “Woohoohoo!”

The board struck the powder with a muffled _thump_. Then, in the low glacial groove of a mountainside valley, bounded by high granite walls, the only sound was a gentle grind of snow beneath the board. Rustling pines high overhead and no smell but the bite of cold on his nostrils.

_Boarding’s different from running. I mean, duh. Obviously. But there’s more to it than just moving without movin’ your legs. I’m not big into thinking, so I wouldn’t go as far as callin’ it ‘elegant.’ But there’s some… magic, to the precision of the thing._

Sonic cut a serpentine path over the pristine snow of the mountain slope. On every turn, as he shifted heel to toe to heel, shredded snow buzzed up from the blade-edge of the board and wound its streaming comet tail behind him. The wind over his face and quills was fast, harsh, dry, clear. He felt like the vanguard of an arctic storm; harbinger of an avalanche. The first blue streak over a white canvas aching for change.

_Tilt right, go right. Tilt left, go left. It’s all weight and balance. Not like running. Running’s just about pace and watching the ground. Tails explained it once… something about momentum, I don’t know. I just play by feel._

“Sonic!”

Sonic threw his weight to his heels and stood up to slow his descent – flinching as a small wave of slush caught in his socks. He glanced behind him in time for a low purple blur to fly by on his left.

_Wait. Was that—_

“Heeeelp!”

Sonic hopped twice to restart his momentum. Looking ahead, he realized that Mina had lain down on the board like one would a sled and was now hurtling head-first towards a glade two hundred yards out. “Ah shoot,” he muttered.

Just then, another blur passed him, this time on his right. Black coat, yellow board: the jackal. Already turned to Sonic, he crouched to increase his speed, calling, “I’ll get her!”

Sonic blinked as he leaned in to catch up.

Ahead, the jackal swerved around an exposed rock with ease and leapt over a fallen branch to keep his speed. But even as Mina drew closer to the impending trees, the jackal’s course seemed to skew further and further right.

Sonic looked between them. _What? Where’s he goin’?_

Sonic repeated the jackal’s jump over the branch, but held left to keep his course on Mina. She was maybe a hundred yards out from the trees now – he crouched as low as he could to slim the air resistance. _Do I drop off the board, try it on foot? No, I’d be slower in this snow… Shoot, how’d she even get that fast in the first place?!_

He stretched out a hand. Thirty meters. _Not gonna make it._ Twenty. _C’mon, think!_ Ten. _I’ll have to jump!_ Five…

Sonic sprang up, arms outstretched towards Mina’s fluttering purple hair. Time seemed to slow down: Sonic watched as his fingers closed in over Mina’s heels… just a few inches short. He had missed. The crash was inevitable, when… Mina suddenly lifted off of the ground.

Sonic twisted his head up. The jackal was suspended upside down in the air, hands wrapped around Mina’s waist. _He… flipped over her?_

Sonic hit the snow, immediately tumbling over himself from the momentum. He managed to regain his posture on the third roll, just in time for a tree to tag his shoulder, spinning him to the left. He reached up and caught a branch to slow himself, when another trunk knocked him down. Beside him, Mina’s red board ramped off a tree trunk and flipped over beside him.

Sonic caught his breath a moment, craning his neck through a mess of trees to see where the jackal had gone. He heard Mina’s voice that way. _Good, she’s okay._ He crouched to pick up Mina’s board, and immediately felt a shock of pain from his shoulder. He picked it up with his right arm, rolling his injured shoulder as he coasted towards the sound of Mina’s voice.

After two minutes of walking, he arrived at a small clearing where Mina paced with crossed arms, rushed breath spinning a cloud of crystals around her neck. The jackal reclined against a tree a few feet away. Mina marched towards Sonic as soon as he’d slid into the clearing.

“Sonic, _what_ were you thinking?! I—” Mina halted as he drew nearer. She blinked, looking down at his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I heal fast,” Sonic said.

Mina looked suspiciously back at him.

“Go on, let me have it.”

“Okay.” She cleared her throat. “What were you _thinking_ just handing me that… ‘snow board’? I had no idea what I was doing! I think I almost just died!”

Sonic nodded. “Yeah, yeah that’s my bad. For sure.” He snorted, suppressing a laugh.

“Hey, what’s that smirk supposed to be? What’s funny here?”

“I’m sorry,” Sonic chuckled. “Really. Nothing’s funny. I just, I didn’t expect you to, uh, lie down on it, and ride it headfirst. Like it was some kind of noodle sled?”

Mina blushed. “What—what was I supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know? Strap it to your foot like I did literally right in front of you?”

“I thought I was gonna fall down if I did that!”

“At least if you fall down standing, you stop in the snow, and not all over a tree!” Sonic coughed to dial in the laughter. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Everyone’s okay, here. We’re all okay.” He dropped the red board. “Here ya go.” 

“I’m not getting back on that thing.”

“C’mon, give it a shot. I mean, look, we’re halfway through the trail now, so the other option here is just hikin’ down to the rest stop at the bottom.” Sonic pat Mina on the arm. “And unless you fancy yourself a snowshoer…”

Mina glared back at him, then slowly crouched to strap her boot to the board.

Sonic turned and pointed to the jackal. “Hey, jackal boy. You had some moves out there. And you said you’d never been?”

The jackal pushed himself from the tree. “I… sandboard.”

“Ahhhh,” Sonic droned. “See? Cover it up all you want, but deep down, everyone loves fun. You’re just a tough nut to crack. Reminds me of a certain… uptight faker.”

Sonic felt a hand on his wrist. He turned to see Mina using him for balance.

“Can we get this over with?” she muttered. “I don’t want to think too much about it.”

“Sure,” Sonic said. “If I remember this place right, there’s a nice stretch of powder just past this part of the glade. Here, follow me.”

The group carefully slid along the narrow, rollicking path of icy snow between the trunks and roots of the snow-crusted pines. The jackal led, as usual, with Sonic trawling a wavering Mina close behind. Immersed in the pensive silence and the dappled shadows of the grove – and constrained as he was in going a bit slower here – Sonic found himself caught up in that same sense of magic he’d felt the first time he’d come to Angel Island.

He shook from the memories as they came out of the woods to an open plane of powdered snow.

“Alright, gang,” Sonic said, rolling his shoulder. “This is it. Just a mile of slope left, a little straightaway, and we’re in town. Jackal man! How ‘bout a race?”

The jackal returned a deadpan stare.

“Wait, Sonic.” Mina awkwardly shuffled in front of the hedgehog. “Why do we need to get to town? Can’t we just warp from here?”

“Nope.”

“What? Why? How long does the… ‘Chaos Command’ or whatever take to recharge?”

“Nah, nah, that’s not it. The ol’ _Command_ is up and running. Ready anytime, as they say.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem, Mina… The _problem_ … is that you aren’t livin’ life to the fullest! It’s not every day you get to shred this kinda powder!” Sonic held his arms out wide. “Life’s not all about the destination, you know? Sometimes it’s about the journey! So…”

Sonic spun to face the jackal, jumping onto his board. “I’ll see you chumps at the bottom!”

The first orange ramp of the downhill course reared its head like a seabound beast above the rounded surface of the snow. Sonic adjusted course straight for it. _No guarantee the jackal’s gonna bite, but I still need to get ahead if this is gonna be…_

Just then, a black streak flew past him, clean off the ramp and across a narrow crevasse.

Sonic grinned, crouched, and bounded from the ramp’s edge after him.

Landing softly, Sonic kept close as the slope shifted beneath them – the first windmill of the foothill village broke over the sinking horizon. Just then, the jackal swerved right, into the yawning black mouth of a cave. _No time to doubt him_ , Sonic thought, cutting across the snow to follow. After a few instants in darkness, the jackal’s sword illuminated their course: a ribbed path that wound between tall, glittering stalagmites of ice, coming down like teeth in the mountain’s jaw. _Tryna lose me in the weeds, huh?_

Through the warped, glassy lenses of the stalagmites, Sonic saw the jackal swinging his sword – the blue light of the crossguard spun and strobed around him. _What’s that for? Balance?_ As Sonic caught up, he realized what the jackal was doing – slicing his course through the ice.

Sonic leapt over the flat tabletop of a sliced stalagmite, pulling his board up to just glide over its surface. Just ahead, the jackal had stopped slicing as the stalagmites diminished in size and number. Besides the constant scrape of their boards over the ice, there was only silence.

The jackal looked over his shoulder – and seeing Sonic had kept pace, he flashed an infinitesimal grin, and abruptly planted his sword into the ground beside him. Holding fast to the handle, he pivoted his momentum around it just until the torque broke the sword’s tip from the ice and launched him at a near-right angle to the left. He vanished into an adjacent tunnel.

Then Sonic saw it: a bare stone wall, not ten yards out. _Dead end._ Sonic crouched to the edge of his board… then flipped clean over it, scraping his spines into the ice. With exact twists he tumbled over and over again, spinning in place along his previous course, building speed. Then, just as he came up on the dead end, he unleashed the spindash and flew after the jackal.

Unlike his rival, who’d transferred his momentum entirely, Sonic had simply stacked his acceleration and now spun around this new branching tunnel like a bullet down a rifled barrel. Just as he overtook the jackal, he twisted his board slightly and slowed down – enough to get a good look at his rival’s baffled face as he flew clean over his head. _Payback for earlier._

As the jackal slipped out of sight behind him Sonic burst out into the blinding daylight. Squinting, he realized the village was in sight. _Alright, we’re halfway through the straightaway! Wait—_

Then he was airborne. _What—_

He landed on his side, tumbling four, five, six times before regaining his balance. He’d noticed them too late: branches like barbed wire, spinning up out of the snow. There were fallen pine trunks just below the surface – he’d ramped clean off one before he’d even realized what happened.

To regain his lost speed, he crouched and tilted his feet to dig in on the edge of the board. A dangerous game – hitting a trunk in this position would hurt pretty bad, but it was his only option. After just a few seconds, he heard the jackal clear the tunnel behind him.

 _This is it._ Navigating the stretch of snow like a minefield, he used the spindling branches as visual cues of when to flatten his board and ramp over hidden trunks.

The fountain at the center of town came into view – soon he could see distinguish the edges of the wood panels on the groaning windmills. _Come on… come on!_

Over the last tree, with a flip for good measure. Sonic could hear him now, just a few feet behind. Some adrenaline-bound superstition commanded him to keep his eyes ahead – that looking back would slow him down, even for a hundredth of a second, and lose it all. The fountain was the finish line. 50 feet out. 25…Sonic stretched out a hand…

“Goal!”

Sonic threw on the brakes, his board skidding over the shoveled bricks of the plaza. Just beside him, the jackal was doing the same.

“I touched it first!”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I absolutely did! Yo, we need a witne-– hey, ‘scuse me!”

Sonic flagged down a nearby townsperson in a hooded brown cloak. They wandered over, clutching a cup of steaming soup.

“Could I help you, young man?” she asked.

“Which of us touched that fountain first?” Sonic pointed.

“Hmm. I’m not sure…”

“Your best guess will suffice,” the jackal said. “We only have so much time to waste.”

“My best guess, huh?”

“Sure. We just need to know who got here first. It was a race.”

“Hmm.” The townsperson slurped at their cup of soup. “In that case, I’m sorry to say…”

Slowly, they raised a hand to their hood… then theatrically flipped it over, unfurling a mess of purple hair and golden fur.

“It was me! Mina!” Mina screamed, planting a thumb on her chest.

 Sonic’s jaw dropped. The jackal covered his face with a hand.

“How?” Sonic managed.

The jackal crouched to undo the clasps on his board. “It should be clear how. The cave detour was the wrong call. She had enough time to get a cloak and food.”

“For free, too,” Mina smiled. “Folks here are very nice.”

“Well, that's good... Tch… just… thought I had that one.” Sonic nursed his pride a moment, then offered a hand. “Well played.”

Mina shook it. “Serves you right,” she added.

“Sure does.” Sonic turned and offered his hand to the jackal, who shook his head.

The three of them stood in silence a moment. Mina turned idly on her heels as the first few flakes, messengers of a snowfall, dwindled down to them from the sky. Some stuck soundlessly to Mina’s hair, passing their moments on the quivering strands there until their transience overtook them and the heat of her face dissolved them, once again, to nothing.

“I’ve never seen the snow before,” she said.

Sonic smiled. Breaking from the group, he hopped awkwardly to the nearby fountain and set himself at its edge. He crouched to unstrap his sneakers, when he realized the stone beneath him was… hot? He looked back at the water. Sure enough, its surface was covered with a thin sheet of steam. _A hot spring._

Without thinking, he puffed some air out of his mouth. The cover of steam peeled away: beneath the quivering surface of the water, a sprawling mass of silvery crystals seemed to sway with the current like gilded seaweed.

“Whoa,” Sonic whispered.

And at the basin’s floor, just visible through the crystalline loops and barbs, were little brass coins of varying standard: tossed in by years’ worth of wishing villagers. They were like crystal seeds, moments of origin. The newest of them shimmered with life; the oldest of them were mossed over with copper rust, half-consumed, branching out at four or more points.

 _Wish I knew the science of it,_ Sonic thought, as the steam resealed its wound and reclosed his window to the other world. _Well… maybe not._ He shook his head and crouched again to his shoes, saying aloud: “Y’know, guys… I may have lost the race, but I still think I’m a winner. I got my point across.”

“The point being… that…”

“That you gotta find the fun in life!” Sonic announced, looking up.

Mina and the jackal had both gone wide-eyed.

Sonic noticed there was now a shadow over him. “… wha—ghhrk!”

Sonic’s hands flew to the sudden tightness on his chest – _splash!_ _‘Splash’?_ He looked down… to see pink water swirling around his body. His hands had disappeared in a tendril closed around his throat. Twisting back, he saw that the fountain had run red; glowing eyes roosted against a spindling black brain peered up at him.

“Get him down from there!” he heard Mina scream.

“How?!”

“I don’t know! Think of something!”

Sonic twisted. _Can’t talk… can’t breathe._ His vision crumbled at the edges.

Then, a release. He dropped the few feet he’d been lifted, gasping in air all the while. Then there was a brusque grip on his wrist, and he was sliding backwards over the pavers. He looked up to see a panicked Mina.

“Are you okay? Your chest?”

Still wheezing, Sonic patted himself down. “Yeah,” he managed, “Ribs all here. Maybe in a few more pieces, but…”

 Sonic grabbed the jackal’s extended arm. Righting himself, he retrained his eyes on the fountain, where a single pink fin was now spinning briskly around. "How'd you guys get me out?"

"We didn't, it just let you go! ... Is that the same thing from the casino?”

“Ugh… yep.”

Slowing, the fin rose from the water. Two long claws gripped the stone of the fountain as it lifted itself up, revealing its translucent, fish-like body. Porous black bone now stretched between the joints of its arm and its tail.

“Why is it a fish now?? And how did it follow us? You said we were on the other side of the planet!”

“First answer: when Chaos gets more Emeralds, he changes to a stronger form. And, uh, second answer, he has a way of getting around.”

“'A way of getting around?' What, can it teleport too??”

Sonic searched his memory. “No…?”

Mina turned to him. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t think so.”

The jackal strafed to guard Mina, sword readied. “We can discuss this later. Just use your Chaos Control and take us out of here.”

“Yeah… about that.” Sonic pointed.

The jackal and Mina looked again to the pink Chaos – and there it was, the gray Emerald, drifting beside the green in the center of its chest.

Mina screamed through closed lips.

“Yeah…”

The jackal lowered his sword. “Are you always this incompetent?”

"Wellllll...

Mina nodded frantically.

Chaos suddenly lashed in place, one of its arms stretching out towards them. The jackal reflexively swiped his sword, but the blade skimmed cleanly through the water. Carrying through, Chaos’ fist struck him in the chest, propelling him backwards into the side of a cabin.

Mina jumped aside. “Sonic! What do we do!”

Sonic nodded. “I've got an idea.”

“What is it?”

Sonic sidestepped to dodge another punch from Chaos.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Oh yeah, that’s news. Just tell me!”

“Okay. Help me grab jackal guy.” Sonic zipped over to the jackal, whose glazed eyes suggested he was only partially conscious. Sonic got one of his arms over his shoulder. Mina quickly zipped over beside them and took his other arm over her own shoulders.

“Now what?”

“Now… we jump inside it...”

Mina looked from him to the violently lashing water monster in the fountain. “... so that you can use the Emeralds from inside his body?”

“That's the idea…”

Mina shuffled the jackal’s arm to sit evenly on her shoulder. She shook her head. “I hate that I’m starting to follow your logic again.”

Sonic passed on a joke given the circumstances. He simply asked: “Ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

They started at a walk, then an uneven jog; but with a few more steps took their balance, Mina careful to keep up. Chaos’ flailing died down; its eyes trained on them seemingly preparing a calculated strike. Sonic drew in a breath…

The black wires of Chaos’ brain twitched.

“Jump!”

Sonic and Mina both pressed down at the snowed brick of the plaza; a watery claw rocketed out towards them, but they were already airborne, headed straight for the fountain.

“Chaos…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well, look who's back.
> 
> Been a few months, but after a friend read through the fanfic and told me he enjoyed it I made some time to pen out a few chapters (I have the next 6 all written out). But, there's a lot of work on the horizon this holiday season, so I wouldn't expect much more than that. In fact, if I deliver much more than that, yell at me in the comments, because there's other work I should be doing.
> 
> With this post I'll also be updating the likely chapter count from 48 to 80. I was going to have a neat chapter title scheme going on where part 1 would be just 10 chapters long, so that I could call them all Part 1.0 (chapter 10) - Part 1.9 (chapter 19), and have that iterate with each new part, but it turned out I couldn't physically cram all of part 1 into 10 chapters (chapter 18 alone is 4800 words) so now I'm going to have to end up doing some terrible Mojang tactics like "Chapter 21 / Part 1.11". Realistically though the system was shot from the beginning because the Prologue started at 1 and not 0, and yada yada, anyway you might see a chapter enumeration overhaul in the future because I get neurotic about math. And naming conventions. My god, it's like my two most obsessive areas teamed up to make this recreational fanfic a torture to title. Oh well.
> 
> Anyway, you can expect a few weeks of content soon. Hope you enjoyed Sonic shredding some powda.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	16. Speed Highway

## 16 – Speed Highway

“... Control!”

“Gah.” Mina tumbled to the floor; the jackal fell beside her.

“’Gah?’” Sonic repeated.

“Shut _up_ ,” Mina moaned, rolling over. “Are we safe?”

“Looks like.”

Mina covered her eyes with an arm. “I feel like I just did forty push-ups. Does that ‘Chaos Control’ not take anything out of you?”

“Nah, not at all.” Sonic dropped into some stretches. “Actually, I usually feel pretty charged up after usin’ the Emeralds.”

“Well, that’s… is the ground… _wet_?” Mina suddenly flinched and bolted upright. “Oh, my _hair_!” she said, running her hands behind her head. “Oh, noohoho!” She twisted to her side to look down at the wet pavement. “Augh… Ash is really gonna let me have it for this.”

“Who’s Ash?”

“My producer. And—boyfriend. He does my hair, is why I…” Mina pushed herself up from the ground, dropping her cloak from the village in Ice Cap. Now on her knees, she looked around to see that they were on a square rooftop some sixty feet across. All around them were vibrant city lights: streaks of neon, block windows like glistering gold inlays, and fogged recursive reflection of mirrorlike glass all creeping up to a dim black sky. “Where are we?”

Completing his stretch routine, Sonic walked delicately to the roof’s edge as he surveyed the landscape himself. “Aw, yeah…” he muttered. “ _This_ is happenin’.”

“Uh, _this_ isn’t New Mobotropolis,” Mina said. “Unless we… traveled through time?”

“Nope, we’re back in Station Square,” Sonic announced.

“Are you _serious_ , Sonic? Are you—I swear you’re doing this on purpose.”

“No no, this time I was really trying to get us back, honest.” Sonic raised his hands in defense. “I was focusin' really hard on the idea of ‘home,’ since I figured… even if I couldn’t imagine the place you were talkin’ about, we might still get there anyhow. You know, the Emerald might take over the rest. The gray patch I was missin’. It might… _know_.”

“How could it ‘know’? Isn’t it just supposed to be a really big battery?”

“Sure, sort of. But the Emeralds, they’ve also got… feelings in ‘em, or something. Spirits and stuff. Maybe.”

“Really...”

“Yeah, I know how it sounds. I’m not pitchin’ it great. Knuckles could convince you. If you sat through enough screaming.” Sonic shrugged.

“… I mean, I’m still sort of not over the fact you can just… teleport.” Mina spun around again, registering the city. “It’s kind of scary.”

Sonic touched his nose. “Scary how?”

“I don’t know. Like, I’ve always known you were fast, but… this is something way bigger.” Mina said. “Fighting gods and spirits – can’t all that power go to your head?”

Sonic clasped his hands behind his head, looking deeply pensive, as though he were considering the thought for the first time. Then he broke it with a shrug. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, it’s that easy?”

“Yeah! Power trips just ain’t my brand.”

“… iced tea.”

Mina looked beside her, to the collapsed figure of the jackal. “What?”

“It’s iced tea,” he muttered again. “The substitute for milk in cereal.”

Sonic’s mouth fell open. “He’s right,” he said. “He got it. He actually – I mean, he got it, first guess. How did you know?”

“On long outings in the desert… a cooled bowl of nopal tea can soften hard tack… lightly sweeten it. The nopal’s easily sourced. It’s not… unpleasant.” The sleepy tone of the jackal’s voice broke off with his last word. He then propped himself up with the aid of his sword. “How long was I unconscious?”

“… few minutes, maybe.” Sonic responded, overcoming his shock.

“Where are we?”

“Station Square. Again.”

The jackal rubbed at the back of his head. “Then you must have thought this place was our best chance at another Emerald?”

“… yeah, let’s go with that. Emerald Hunt 2.0, starting now. New and improved.” Sonic clapped. “Should be easy enough.”

“Uh, no? Last time, we had to break into a high-security vault, with a force field.” Mina shuffled to her feet. “And, the water guy has four Emeralds already. Wouldn’t that make finding another one even harder?”

“Sure, but I’ve got this weird feeling happening.” Sonic set his hands on his hips. “These past few hours have been pretty surreal. Since you found me on that beach, maybe even before… all of this has felt kinda like a dream? Like… this whole obstacle course is on track with my memories. At least, the ones I actually remember.”

“Nice memories. Together, we’ve only almost died, what…” Mina glanced at an imaginary watch. “Nine? Ten times now?”

“C’est la vie!” Sonic grinned.

An enormous orange blimp passed overhead, emblazoned with the words: Got Rings?

“Overlanders are so weird,” Mina muttered.

“Sonic.”

“’Sup?”

“What’s our next move?”

“Well… oh, yeah, that reminds me. Where I was goin’ with the dream thing was, if this _is_ all a trip down memory lane, we’re about halfway to my big fight with Chaos.”

“... big fight?”

“So, we should set our sights on _that_ building…” – Sonic pointed to the most salient skyscraper of the surrounding skyline – “and then town square.” He traced an arc somewhere past the techno-obelisk to a distant destination. “Wanna make it a race?”

“Not again…”

"There's this old statue in the park there. Could make for a good finish line..."

The jackal moved to the edge of the roof. He peered over the edge, as a fleet of flying cars passed by. “Rather advanced, aren’t they?”

“Hm, yeah,” Sonic said, following his line of sight. “Guess they’ve really come far in the years since I’ve last been. Hm, maybe they brought over some tech from Monopole? I hadn’t really thought about—”

Just then, the jackal leapt from the roof, arms and legs outstretched to catch the air. Mina gasped and ran to the edge, beside Sonic.

“Did he just…?”

Sonic braced to jump after him. “I’ll give him a few seconds.”

The two watched the rapidly descending form of the jackal as he landed in the moving chassis of a yellow sky taxi. The taxi dropped as it buffered the sudden impact, then rose again to its lane. The jackal waved up to them before seating himself behind the driver.

“Show-off,” Sonic muttered, walking away from the edge. “These guys… I hate when they do that. They always gotta make it _real_.”

“What, racing me wasn’t gonna be _real_?” Mina shoved him.

Sonic humbly set his hands on his chest. “Hey, well if you can top fifteen percent, I’ll give credit where credit’s due!”

“Whatever.” Mina pointed to the roof access elevator. “We’re taking that first though, right? Because I’m not adding ‘jumping off a building’ to the acid trip miracle roster of activities this last day – night? – has been.”

“Yeah, I’m with you.” Sonic zipped over to hit the call button. “I miss the taxi on the way down? When I hit that pavement... I’m not sure how much comin’ outta me is gonna be rings and how much is just gonna be… me.”

The elevator arrived. Sonic and Mina stepped into the confines of its thin eggshell paint and quiet outdated pop. The doors rolled shut, and as the carriage lowered into the building, a small beep sounded. An old-fashioned dial above the door rolled just left of the R.

Sonic started tapping his foot. “Great, just another fifty to go.”

“Think we’ll get any stops?”

“I hope not.”

Mina took to humming along to the track by floor 40. _Wonder if she realizes it,_ Sonic thought. His eyes wound along the tacky faux-ornate ceiling trim.

At floor 30, the wait moved from annoying to agonizing.

At floor 25 – “C’monnnn.”

“You know we wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t keep warping us to the wrong place.”

“Stop being right.”

“And what about ‘enjoying the journey?’”

“You’re killin’ me.”

“All I’m saying is, if you can shove me down a ski slope, I can make you stand in an elevator for like three minutes.”

“Bruh…”

Floor 10. The banter fell away as the reality of the race drew nearer. Sonic dropped all pretense and settled into a crouch, which Mina quickly emulated. The dial rolled by tenths of inches on towards G. Sonic closed his eyes at floor 3.

_Beep! Ready… Beep! Set… Beep!_

The elevator thudded to a halt. A breathless second. The doors parted.

“GO!”

Out through the green marble lobby of the office building and through a revolving glass door parallel streaks of blue and violet entered the city streets. No pedestrians strode the precise cement sidewalks but cars both arrested at red and blazing through green populated the narrow steel valleys, man-made canyons of Station Square.

The blue streak led but the violet streak kept close behind as they swirled up the crumbling red brick of a church bell tower, bounced from rooftop to rooftop under the spotlights of helicopters, and for a time even disappeared underground to straddle the steel rails of the subway, only to burst again to the surface like needles drawing cool-colored thread through the heart of the human metropolis.

Sonic looked ahead. They’d taken an aimless course, as was his prerogative in leading her; but now, as they jumped from one roof to another, they were closing in on his first of two landmarks, the tallest building for miles around. Sonic dug in his heels and skidded to a halt, churning up the rubberized asphalt as he came to a precarious stop at the edge. He whipped his arms back for balance and rocked gingerly to his heels.

Mina arrived beside him, her breath heavy and rushed. She set her elbows on her knees and looked wildly up at him from her doubled-over stance.

“You made good time!” Sonic offered a thumbs up. “I think we got up towards twenty percent there.”

“Would you… stop… with the percents?” Mina gasped. “It’s _patronizing!_ Stop patronizing me.”

“Whoops, sorry. Hey, do you need, uh… are you gonna be okay?”

“I’m fine… Why did we stop.”

“Well, I was going to tell you about the jump into that building, but… maybe you should just take a break.”

“I said I was fine!” Mina straightened up, wincing at the stitches in her sides. She blinked. “Wait, did you say… jump _into_ the building?”

“Yeah. We can get enough speed on these next few roofs… roof-roof-rooves? Is it rooves?” Sonic looked at the floor for answers, then to Mina.

“I don’t know? What were you saying?”

“Well, we can get enough speed on these next few building-tops to jump and break through that window there.”

“So we are breaking through? We’re just breaking and entering?”

“Well, they can afford it… probably. It’s uh, they got insurance.”

“Do you know what insurance _is_?”

“No. Do you?”

“No, but I don’t think it just means we can break other people’s stuff.”

“Shoot.” Sonic rubbed at his muzzle. “Well, this was gonna be a lot cooler. And I don’t really want to take another elevator down.”

“Wait, back up. Does that not… does the crime aspect of all this not trouble you?”

“Well, it’s not hurting anybody. Directly.”

Mina rubbed at her eye. “Okay, you know what, whatever. We’re going through?”

“Wait, so you're on board?”

“Sure. I guess. I mean, we already stole a priceless gem from some casino owners, so I’m kind of already banking on the idea that I can just wake up tomorrow and imagine all of this was a fever dream. Like it never happened.”

“Well,” Sonic drawled, “I _was_ gonna put that Emerald back. Remember?”

“No, I told you—” Mina closed her eyes, shook her head, and drew a line in the air with pinched fingers. “It _never_ happened.”

“Okay, well, ready when you are.”

“Okay... okay. Let’s do it, let’s go.” Mina clapped to punctuate her sentence – only narrowly missing her attempt to cover the tremor in her voice.

Sonic wasn’t convinced, but mulling it over ultimately figured, _if she wants to she wants to,_ and paced to the back end of the rooftop. “Race is on hold for the moment, by the way.”

“Well, yeah. Obviously. Oh, and, I want a handicap. Since, I’m not jumping through plate glass, so, I have to go behind you.” Mina pointed.

“Consider it granted! Once we’re through though, it’s back on.”

“Yeah. Once we’re – once we’re _in!_ what am I – ugh, yeah.” Mina wiped her face and stood behind Sonic, watching as he readied himself a moment, then vanished.

 _One_ – over the first building gap – and _Two_ – over the second – and this was the big one, _Three_ – over a city street – okay, aaaaand – _Four!_

Sonic curled his legs up under himself as he burst through the glass to the 40th-odd floor of the target skyscraper. He rolled a few times over the carpet as a storm of shards tinkled over the immediate rows of felt cubicles; then stood and shook the remainder out of his quills.

A few moments later Mina narrowly cleared bounds of the “open” window, arms spinning wildly. She even landed evenly on her feet, prompting an astonished, exhilarated gasp as she slowed to an unsteady trot over the carpet now glittering with glass.

“Nicely done.”

“… I can’t actually believe I just did that.” Mina blinked, looking down at her hands. “Um… it’s really dark in here.”

“No worries,” Sonic said. “Just follow me.”

They advanced through the office to a hallway framed by dim ambient lights and twin rows of false palm trees. A ribbed red carpet guided them as they crossed to a set of double doors at the far end. Mina quietly took to humming the elevator track again, muttering, _"We're no strangers to love..."_

"Whatcha thinkin'?

“I guess I'm thinking... it's weird that they wouldn’t have any alarms, or locks?” Mina said. “I guess they didn’t count on anyone jumping in at the 41st floor.”

“Well, when you do things people never thought you could, you get to go places they never thought to lock you out of, and you get to see things they never thought to hide. Like... this!”

Having arrived at the other side, Sonic pulled open the double doors to reveal a small room, set out from the main body of the building, with a curved ceiling, fashioned almost entirely of glass – including the floor.

Mina flinched back from it as she noticed that final detail, but Sonic nonchalantly walked inside and held the door out for her.

“Mmm… no thanks.”

“C’mon, it looks scarier than it is.”

“Hey, I’m the boss of what’s scary to me. I’m scared of that, so that makes it scary.”

“But I’m telling you, you’ll love it.”

“I really don’t think I will.”

“C’mon, trust me.”

Mina bit her lip, then gingerly stretched a foot past Sonic to test the floor. She then shuffled her other foot slowly onto it; then, took some tentative first steps out towards the center of the glass. Sonic eased off the door to let it relax back into place.

“Stop,” Mina said, pointing behind her.

“What?”

“Leave the door open. I’m reserving the right to bail at any time.”

“As you wish,” Sonic said, leaning back against the door.

Mina spent the following twenty seconds waddling in circles, eyes still dead set on the floor, knees slightly bent, arms stretched out to the fingertips; then, after reaching some arbitrary mark of confidence, she straightened up and pointed back at Sonic.

“Okay… I’m good.”

“You sure?” Sonic asked, smiling. “You’re still not lookin’ up.”

Mina hesitated a few moments longer, then looked up at him. “I’m good,” she repeated.

“Alright,” Sonic said, walking over to her.

He took the opportunity to properly absorb the unbroken cityscape panorama the unorthodox glass room afforded. Technicolor traffic flowed seamlessly around them: yellow and black taxicabs, blue and white headlights, orange and red rear lights; all borne along the flowing streams of twisting skyways as blood cells are borne through winding veins back to the metropolitan heart below: town square.

Sonic grinned. “You know, a few years ago I tore this place up huntin’ down Amy.”

Mina snorted. “ _You_ were hunting down _Amy_? Did I hear that right?”

“If you can believe it. Deal was, she got kidnapped. Guess that was still back before she believed she could handle herself.”

“Well, you’ve got that effect on people.”

“What’s that?”

“Giving them confidence.”

“Aw, no way. People make their own confidence. I’ve got no claim to it.”

“You at least get them to go places way out of their comfort zone. Like, like you’re doing to me. Like, right now.”

“Okay,” Sonic said, shrugging. “Guess I _do_ do that.”

Mina pointed down at a nexus of ground roads. “Hey, is that the ‘town square’ you were talking about?”

“Yep. S’why I chose this building.”

“What—” Mina looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sonic gave a refreshed sigh. “Well, ready to leave your comfort zone?”

“No, you better not.”

“Here we go!”

Sonic whipped forward into a spindash, almost immediately shattering the glass underfoot. Mina flailed for the door handle, her fingertips coming just a few inches short, as the two of them plummeted into the howling torrent of wind below.

“IhateyouIhateyouIh—” Mina’s voice swirled away.

Sonic shut his eyes and took in the cornucopia of sensation. Every inch of his fur and quills were fizzing, buzzing with life; the slow ichor of weightlessness seeped in, to the floor of his stomach; his mind slowly lost track of which direction was up.

When he reopened his eyes, he was upside down, with Mina tumbling around some feet away. He reached out and caught her arm to steady her – as she turned to look at him, eyes wide with terror, he motioned for her to start kicking her legs. She obliged, and the two were then pedaling in the air, facing towards the ground.

Sonic tilted forward to have the air direct them to the building, where they caught their footing. Mina loosed screams of exhilaration as they came up towards the high glass roof of the lobby. Sonic quickly leaned over to grab her behind the neck and waist, pushed off from the building, and rotated such that his heels broke through the lobby’s roof. He bounded between the high conveyer-belt tunnels, lessening his velocity with calculated jumps – until he burst through a final layer of plate glass above the final floor. He quickly zipped aside to avoid the ensuing shower of glass, and set Mina down by the door.

Mina fell over into a leather lobby chair. After a stretch of shaky breathing, she said aloud, “I _so_ want to kill you.”

“But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Mina agreed, “and I still so, _so_ want to kill you.”

After a few more moments, she hopped back up to stand beside Sonic, who was posing proudly with both hands on his waist.

“So, is the race officially—”

In a flash Mina shoved Sonic over and blitzed through the lobby door.

“… back on,” Sonic finished. Grinning, he jumped to his feet and rushed after her, just through the doors to where she was now standing, hand set triumphantly on a human statue in the middle of a quiet garden.

“I win,” she declared. “Second time today-er-night. How’s my dust taste!”

“Almost as good as that hotel floor,” Sonic said. “You play mean, Mina.”

Mina leaned against the statue with crossed arms. “What can I say? I’m a natural winner.”

“But, at what price?” Sonic asked, dramatically.

Mina rolled her eyes. “Forget it. I’m not competitive, really. I’m not. I don’t… I don’t try to be.”

“You say that,” Sonic said. “But…” He trailed off, looking up at the statue they’d chosen for victory – then down at its illegibly worn plaque. “‘Forget it,’ huh?”

“Hm?”

“Look – as sure as I am I met you this morning, I have a hard time believing I’d just _forget_ someone like you. I mean: Fast? Talented? Way past cool?”

Mina scoffed. “You’re describing yourself, Sonic.”

“Just saying.” Sonic shrugged. “You said we were exes, right?”

“Oh god. If I’d known you’d really forgotten that, I would _never_ have said anything.”

“Well…”

“The whole thing was a mess,” Mina said. “Just a whole lot of stupid, needless drama. That’s all it was.”

“Yikes,” Sonic said. “Sorry I couldn’t treat you better, I guess.”

Mina squinted briefly. “That wasn’t it. It’s just… Sally’s the girl for you. Everyone knows it, I know it. I _knew_ it, honestly. I was just getting in the way.”

Sonic smiled at her confusedly. “Who’s… ‘Sally?’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the Sonic thread from last week. Here we are in Speed Highway.
> 
> For the record, I think getting stuck in a slow elevator with an ex is possibly the most torturous experience Sonic can undergo. I didn't realize that until I had written it, but in retrospect, it might actually be his image of hell.
> 
> This Friday, back to Sally. We'll see how they're getting along in the desert.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	17. Fording Lost Valley

## 17 – Fording Lost Valley

Sally’s strained eyes measured the tone of the distant horizon, rolling with heat, where crumbling checkerboard cliffs and broken loop-de-loops blurred into the deep red sky. Pressing the soles of her boots down on her footrest, she lifted her wrist to her mouth.

“Let’s call it here, team.”

Sally tightened the brakes, slowing the bike to a stop. Rosy hopped off and rushed away, shouting back an explanation of, “Gotta pee!”

Tails rolled the Cyclone to a halt beside Sally and shifted it up into walker mode. The mirrored surface of his cockpit gave away nothing.

Blaze touched down a few yards away. After her usual clothes had been torn up in the attack two nights ago, Knuckles had provided her the closest accessible approximate, a set of flame-retardant Resistance gear. _“Burst Wispon troopers’ surplus,”_ he’d said.

She tugged down at the ill-fitting gray shirt as she approached. “It was… _thoughtful_ of Knuckles to offer me this outfit. But I must say, it’s hideous.”

“That’s modern warfare for you,” Sally said. “Function over form.” She propped the kickstand, dismounted her bike, and crouched to inspect its motor.

“I understand it holds _some_ tactical advantage, but Knuckles’ affinity for camouflage print verges on fetishistic.” Blaze made a face as though she’d tasted something bitter as she rubbed at the nylon sleeve of her jacket.

Sally touched a loosened lug nut. Quickly, Nicole’s nanites whirred to life around its edge, spinning it back to a tight seal. At the lower edge of Sally’s vision, the diagnostic render of her bike flashed green. Sally stood, wiped her hand across her goggles to return them to the shape of an eyepiece. “How are you feeling, besides the burden of poor fashion?”

“Fit to continue. Yourself?”

“The same. I was just… hoping we could find more refugees out here.” Sally scratched at her head. “Every crater we saw was empty, and those were just the ones we saw. Not to mention how the landscape’s always changing out here – we could have missed easily a dozen more because the landmark expired.”

Blaze nodded, quietly reflecting, “They must be going somewhere.”

“Hm.” Sally stared through the ground. _She’s right. We at least haven’t found any bodies… but could all these meteors really just be ‘blanks’ like that?_

Rosy bounded back from a distant crop of rocks. “Now what?”

“Now,” Sally said, walking back to the Cyclone. “We wait. Canteens, everyone?”

Blaze and Rosy followed her, handing off their steel canteens by their lanyards. Sally drummed a fist against the folded blue leg of the vehicle. “Tails, could you open your storage?”

“… oh, uh—yeah. Here.”

With a hermetic hiss a broad panel spanning the left hull popped ajar. Sally pulled it open, revealing three barrels labeled WATER. For each canteen, Sally uncapped the container, carefully twisted the plastic tap of the water barrel, and let it fill. She handed the two back and slung hers around her shoulder.

On the shelf above the barrels sat several tightly packed rows of yellow paper packets. Sally drew a few out and held them towards Blaze and Rosy.

“What are these?”

“They’re MREs,” Sally said. “Our food. Take one.”

Blaze silently accepted a packet and walked away.

Rosy took one in both her hands. “What sorta food's a 'emma ree'?”

“It’s–” Sally glanced at the MRE she’d taken for herself. “Pasta, tonight. Here – you just follow the instructions on the side, okay?” Sally traced her finger along the rows of finely-printed black text. “If you follow those, the food will cook itself.”

“But…” Rosy pouted and furrowed her brow. “I can’t read.”

“Er…” Sally looked over to Blaze, who had sat down a few yards away in the sand and was now staring into a properly propped MRE bag. Rosy followed Sally’s gaze.

Blaze looked up, then between them. “What is it?”

“Blaze, would you mind helping Rosy with her MRE?”

“… is that some kind of jo—”

“Thank you!”

Turning again to the Cyclone, Sally felt a smile creep up her lips as a voice echoed in her head. _“Ay come see! We got suppah!”_ she heard. _And what else does she say? And don’t…_ _ “An’ don’t forget’yo fixin’s!”_

“Fixin’s,” Sally muttered. She stood on tiptoe to press the storage panel shut, when the gleam of the cockpit windshield caught her eye. “Oh—Tails!” she dropped back to her feet. “I almost forgot. Here, let me get you—”

“No, it’s ok,” Tails said. “It’s – sorry – it’s ok. I don’t need anything.”

Sally hesitated. “Even with air conditioning, Tails, you need water in there.” She frowned. “Come on, let me get you something. I can hand it to you from out here, if you’d like.”

“No. Thank you. I have—I have a secondary access in here… but thanks.”

“… if you’re sure.” A bit slowly, Sally reached up to press the panel in, this time fully. She then looked aside, to where Rosy was now quietly sitting beside two steaming MRE packs.

“Where’s Blaze?” she called.

Rosy pointed to a copse of bare, dead trees a few dozen yards away, where Blaze was now trawling back the dried corpse of a palm tree by its disinterred roots.

“Ah.” Sally joined Rosy, crouched beside her, and set up her own MRE. “Nicole, show me our progress.”

“Right away, Sally.” A few feet in front of her, the seated form of Nicole materialized. She took an ethereal, fading quality, as Sally could see her only through her eyepiece. Nicole pointed down at the stretch of earth between them, where the varied colors of the Beryllian continent appeared to rise up from the sand.

“Here we are.” Nicole pointed. “Just beyond the border of the so-described ‘Badlands’ and Green Hill. Archival Resistance radio accounts describe it as ‘Lost Valley.’”

Three points of light hovered over the risen surface: one green, _Resistance HQ_ , one blue, _our party_ , and one red, _the singularity_. Sally dug around in the sand a moment for a handful of small pebbles; she set one at each light.

“Are you talking with the little lady in your glasses again?!”

Sally flinched as Rosy’s loud, flat voice sounded inches from her ear. She had nearly climbed on top of her before asking the question.

“Yes, Rosy,” Sally responded, in a hushed voice.

Rosy looked back toward the Cyclone, which Tails had apparently now powered off. Guarding her mouth with the back of her hand, she asked in a harsh whisper, “How come you’re not telling Miles about her?”

“That’s a good question.” Sally scratched at her lip, glancing quickly down at her and Rosy’s wrists to check that the green light of both communicators was off. “It’s because Blaze and I think Knuckles would not want to help us if he heard we had a friend who’s a robot. And Tails… would probably tell Knuckles.”

“… so wait, she _is_ fake?” Rosy asked.

“Oh no, she’s real,” Sally said, smiling. “Just not flesh and blood, like you and me.”

Rosy stared through her, brow twisted and jaw ajar in speechless confusion.

Having nearly arrived, Blaze released the tree from her grip a few feet away. She then crossed to sit – carefully, with precise posture – beside Sally, all the while breathing heavily through her nose. She pointed to Rosy. “Why don’t you go smash that into firewood?”

Rosy grinned and bounced away, emitting an initial _clang_ from her metal hammer as she drew it from nowhere.

“… you little gremlin,” Blaze added, sighing. “How is our progress?”

“We’re ahead of schedule,” Sally said, pointing to the pebbles. “We’re a hundred and thirty miles north of Free—er, _Resistance_ HQ.”

With a snap, Blaze struck up a fingertip to better see the diagram in the dwindling twilight. “Roughly a third. Good.” She curled the finger back to her palm to extinguish it.

A cacophony of splintering wood sounded as Rosy began to break down the tree trunk.

“Not too much, Rosy! We need something left to burn.”

“How will we organize vigils?”

“Right.” Sally tapped the communicator in her cuff. “Tails, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

Using her hammer as a broom, Rosy shoved a pile of wood blocks widely varying in size towards Sally and Blaze. Blaze deftly snatched her MRE out of the way, flashing a warning look.

“We’re deciding vigils. Do you have any preference as to order?”

Blaze swiped one hand across the surface of the other, pouring a brilliant wave of golden sparks from the edge of her palm. The thinner shards fraying up from the surface of the wooden chunks quickly wisped away to fragrant smoke.

“Um… n-no. I can take whatever anyone else doesn’t want.”

“Sure. We’ll come back to you.”

“I will be the first watcher.”

Blaze reached forward and shifted a piece of firewood. A plume of nascent ashes fluttered into the air as the fire started to take hold.

“I only wanna get up once!” Rosy said, rocking idly. “Or I’ll get craaaaanky.”

“Okay Rosy, then you can go last… I’ll go second. Tails, that leaves you with slot three. 1 to 3:30 AM. I'll wake you up.”

“Okay.”

Sally counted on her fingers. “We’ll get eight hours of rest, even with a two-and-a-half-hour vigil each. Any questions?”

Tails’ voice came again through Sally’s communicator. “Um… shouldn’t we cover that fire? So the wraiths can’t find us as easily.”

“Not at all. Fire repels them,” Blaze said. “Half the purpose of this pyre is to ward them off.” She looked over her shoulder at the Cyclone. “I should add that I expect anyone on vigil to tend this flame. For those of us not sleeping in a suit of armor, this is our first defense.”

Sally glanced at her as the moment passed. A few minutes after, the three were spooning steaming over-salted pasta into their mouths with tin spoons; a few minutes after that, they were lying in the sand, wishing themselves to sleep, with the exception of Blaze, whose open amber eyes went on reflecting the quietly crackling bouquet of flame.

\---

“Tails? Are you there?”

Tails stirred in his cushioned chair. Wincing at a stiffness in his neck, he sat forward and touched his wrist. He murmured, “Yeah?”

“It’s time for your shift.”

Tails opened his eyes, blinking through the sopor. In the night, the outside of his cockpit had gone mosaic with dew; the distant campfire spilled warm light through the glassy beads of water. “Okay, Sally. I’m up.”

“Great. Then I'm headed to bed.”

He flicked a switch on the dashboard, activating a wiper arm that drew the dew away. In that afforded window of clarity, he watched as Sally set another two logs in the fire, looked over the camp, then sat down nearby.

He yawned, rocking his entire body with a shudder. _I’m just watching them sleep, right?_ he thought. _Should be easy enough._

Sally touched the eyepiece clipped to the side of her head. Tails squinted. It was hard to see detail in the firelight, but… _Is her mouth moving? She turned off her communicator, so… who’s she talking to?_ … _Oh – maybe it’s the verbal interface she mentioned. “Nicole.”_

Sally covered her mouth as her shoulders shuddered. _Wait, is she… laughing?_ Tails shifted in his chair. _What’s funny? … did “Nicole”… tell her a joke?_ But a few seconds later, Sally unclipped the eyepiece and lay down, leaving it in her open palm.

Tails blinked. _That was weird... Guess I can't judge._ Shaking his head to clear away his thoughts, he pulled out the keyboard tray beneath the Cyclone’s primary monitor and quickly typed out a command: > PRNT DIAG.

The monitor returned a few green displays of the Cyclone. _All systems go._ The waveform samples Sally had sent him were coming through decidedly stronger than before. _Guess we’re headed the right way._

Tails looked again to the campfire, but over the course of the next ten minutes found he could only focus on it for so long at a time before his heart began to speed up at the premise that there was only a half-inch of glass between him and the outside world. He’d draw in an uneven breath, put in the diagnostic command and flip through a few live diagrams, look up again… rinse and repeat.

As he fell into the rhythm of it, he felt himself sliding back just a little bit more in his chair, until he was just looking past his nose to see the campfire. He had barely slept in the days since the last wraith attack – not for any conscious or deliberate reason – and his body seemed to be aching at him now to close his eyes.

_I haven't slept in over a day before now... and it's so hard falling asleep. Maybe I can just... ___ __So he acquiesced, at first holding his blinks for just a few moments longer, but eventually he was resting his eyes more than using them. And_ _

____

\---

____

Tails started awake, and quickly looked to the time on the monitor. 2:29 AM. “Shoot,” he muttered. His windshield dark, he sat forward and flicked the wiper switch; but even with the dew cleared, he could barely make out the campsite. The fire had gone out.

____

“Shoot!” he repeated. _Are they there? Please…_ His heart thudding, he jammed down the red button to pop the cockpit. He shoved the keyboard tray back into the console and stood on the deck of the cockpit, pushing up on the glass. With his naked eye, under a brilliant canvas of stars, he frantically scanned the dark; eventually distinguishing the sleeping forms of Blaze, Sally, and Rosy, about where they had been before.

____

He let out a long, shaky sigh of relief, and collapsed back down into his seat. _They’re okay,_ he thought. _It’s okay, they’re okay._

____

But as soon as that panic had left his mind, another set in. He quickly reached up and pulled the cockpit glass closed. _I was outside_ , he thought. _I was just outside._ He covered his mouth as something between a gag and a laugh escaped him. Had it really been… just that easy?

____

He swallowed, concentrating again on the fire. He heard Blaze’s words again. _“This is our first defense.”_ His heart pounded in his chest. _“I expect anyone on vigil to tend this flame.”_

____

He’d just done it, hadn’t he? He’d just that easily jumped from the Cyclone, into the air he’d been scared to breathe for months _…_ _But, I didn’t mean to. What happens if I actually try? But… I was only out for a second. I can’t go out longer than that. What if someone sees me?_

____

“Tails?”

____

Tails’ eyes flew to his communicator. _Whose voice is that?_

____

“Tails, can you hear me?”

____

“Who is this?”

____

“Sally’s assistant, Nicole.”

____

Tails’ mind whirled. _Nicole? The interface? Her voice sounds too clear to be simulated. Is it… is this a remote call? Has Sally been communicating with someone else the whole time? Is she... a spy?_

____

“I’m sure your questions are numerous,” Nicole continued. “I’m happy to answer them. But before anything else – how you are feeling?”

____

“What?”

____

“I’d just like to know if you are feeling alright.”

____

Tails’ finger hesitated over the ignition. As badly as he wanted to start the Cyclone, the motor would almost certainly wake up the party. “Just tell me who you are,” he said, startled at the sudden force in his voice. “How did you get this frequency? Who are you!”

____

“Oh,” Nicole said. “Of course. I’m… an artificial intelligence. Housed in Sally’s PDA. I’m her friend and assistant. I've accessed this frequency by tapping into her communicator.”

____

Tails stared at his wrist. This person talking to him was a _machine_? The most advanced AI he’d seen to date would probably be Omega, who even then often came across as… limited. But this voice coming to him was tempered, flowing; it even spoke of emotion. _It can’t be true._

____

But, it would explain so much. _That’s why Sally could isolate and track the waveform so easily. Maybe even how she "built" a bike in just a few days. And, how the verbal interface managed to interpret suggestions, not just commands. A neural net processor with enough depth to fool me from the start of a conversation… would put the Turing Test to shame._

____

“… Tails?”

____

“I’m here,” Tails said, on reflex. “You really are an AI… aren’t you?”

____

“Yes. I cannot lie.”

____

“And you came from Sally’s world?”

____

“Yes.”

____

“Who made you? Sally?”

____

“I... cannot say.”

____

Tails blinked. “What do you mean?”

____

“I cannot say,” Nicole repeated. _In her voice, is that… discomfort? Can a machine feel discomfort?_ “But, I am my code’s sole proprietor,” she added. “Self-determining. Like you.”

____

“… how old are you? Are there more like you?”

____

“My internal timestamp would suggest that I am 7 years old,” Nicole said, “but that statistic is a bit… misleading. As for others; no, there aren’t. Not in our world.”

____

Tails’ fear was gone now, consumed in the fire of curiosity. His mouth was nearly moving on its own as questions rolled out of him. “Do you have an eidetic memory? What do your internals look like, do you run on a quantum computer? Would you call yourself a singular or stratified intelligence? Can you compartmentalize your consciousness?”

____

“Tails – I would be happy to answer these questions and more in a moment,” Nicole said, “but I’m afraid I did contact you for a reason.”

____

Tails slowed his excited rocking. “Oh. What--what is it?”

____

“I need you to come set more wood on the fire. It’s nearly gone, and I’m afraid I can’t restore it myself.”

____

His whole body froze. His eyes rapidly scanned his cabin, taking in every detail but those of the narrow window he had looking out on the campsite. “U-Um…”

____

“I will be with you throughout,” Nicole said. “You have nothing to fear.”

____

“I, thanks, but I just… I can’t. S-sorry.”

____

“It will be okay.”

____

Tails looked again at the time. 2:36. _It’s early, but…_ “… maybe I can just… ping Rosy to wake her up? Uh, for just a minute, so she can set the wood on.”

____

“Tails…” Nicole trailed off. A few heartbeats passed. “Sally has told you how you and she are close in our world, yes?”

____

“Um… yeah.”

____

“I would say you and I are just as close. We’re good friends!” _It’s like… there’s a smile in her voice. How?_ “You’ve helped me countless times. Whenever I need support, I can count on you.”

____

Tails shook his head. He gave a staccato laugh. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

____

“It is,” Nicole insisted. “Though you might not always realize it.”

____

Tails kept silent.

____

“I’m telling you this because right now, I want to be here for you. If there’s any way I can make you more comfortable with walking just fifteen yards here and back, I’ll do it.”

____

“What if…” Tails shook his head. “No.”

____

“Please, go on.”

____

“What if someone sees me? It’s stupid, I know…”

____

“It’s okay, Tails. They’ll stay asleep. And as for me…” _Again… the sound of a smile..._ “I have no eyes to close.”

____

Tails drew in a long breath. _Just do it. No. Just do it. No, no. Just do it._ He pressed the same red button he had a few minutes ago. The glass shield above him popped out on its lining. He pushed it open.

____

He hadn’t noticed the cold the last time, but just then a wind snapped past him, cutting under his fur to his skin. He gasped, instinctively, but some level of… _joy?_ passed over him. A sound like quiet wave came up from the metal shell of the Cyclone as it was showered with infinitesimal grains of sand.

____

When the wind had gone, he gingerly stepped out of the machine, swung his weight to the other side, and lingered there, one hand glued still to his creation.

____

“Nicole,” he said.

____

“Yes?”

____

“How long is your, um… battery life? If it's ok-if you wanna tell me that.”

____

“The PDA unit Sally is carrying right now is fitted with a microfusion cell that will provide roughly 200 years of continuous use; however, too great of a power draw in a short timeframe can lead to temporary burnout.”

____

“Microfusion? That’s…” Tails shook his head. That sort of technology was still decades out. Even Robotnik hadn’t yet cracked it. “So… you’re way beyond milliampere hours, huh?”

____

“Yes.”

____

Tails tried to draw his focus in on the conversation as he went a few steps further. “Any chance you’d let me see your schematics?”

____

“Unfortunately, I cannot - my apologies. That data was encrypted by my creator. However, you’re welcome to observe this unit in the interest of reverse engineering.”

____

“Huh… I might… take you up on that.” Tails had stalled about halfway between the Cyclone and his objective. He found himself looking up, to the ceiling of a cloudless sky silvered with the light of countless distant suns. “But I was mainly asking… to see if you sleep.”

____

“Not typically,” Nicole said, “not as you’d define it. I would have happily taken sole vigil had Sally felt comfortable telling you of my true nature.”

____

Tails looked down again, towards Sally. He resumed his walk. “Why, uh… wasn’t she?”

____

“I believe you’d have to ask her,” Nicole said, drawing quiet as Tails neared the camp.

____

Then he walked past his sleeping team, quietly set three new logs on the fire, turned, and started back, unceremoniously, with little further note of how or where he was. Nicole, with her presence alone, had overfilled his mind with questions and dreams. Potentials of microfusion, neural net processing, developmental consciousness, blurred in a seamless procession through his mind’s eye. _I need a list,_ he thought. _First thing to test back at HQ would be—_

____

“Tails!”

____

Just as Nicole spoke, an unearthly, ear-splitting wail came down from above; and Tails whirled on his heel to see a swarm of red eyes descend on his friends.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> I've broken my own rule and written out the rest of Part 1 (to chapter 25, with a possible additional 26th). Feel free to yell at me.
> 
> That aside, I'm debating uploading additional materials to this site to help readers understand this fanfiction, beyond what I just write in these chapter notes. For one, I think a summary of the games I'm deeming canon - and the slight retcons I've made to make them flow 'logically' as a cohesive narrative - might be due. I can tell you now I'm acknowledging 45 of the Sonic games released from Sonic 1 to Forces (inclusive, obviously) as canon to the dimension of Beryllia. This also includes games like the "storybook" titles, where Sonic is the lone representative of Beryllia in a different dimension. I've also done the work of setting these games on a continuous timeline, in (roughly) the order they were released, elapsing about 9 years total according to ages recorded in (some) CANON MATERIALS. i.e. Amy was 8 during the events of Sonic CD, and is at the time of this story 17 years old.
> 
> Then again... maybe it'd spoil the fun to just tell you all these things. Perhaps you can piece together the canon Beryllian timeline for yourself! We'll see if I drop enough hints...
> 
> Tune in next time for an extremely action-packed chapter.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	18. Raid on the Reservoir

## 18 – Raid on the Reservoir

Sally’s eyes flew open as a shrill alarm blared from her wrist communicator. The world was a pulsating, electric red.

“Sally, it’s an attack!”

“Augh! Unhand me, you—”

She pushed herself up from the ground, fumbling to clip on her eyepiece. Just a few feet away, Blaze was flailing, almost completely swallowed in inky shadow. As the eyepiece’s flashlight switched on, Sally started jogging, wincing at her sleeping leg.

“Where did they come from? What happened to the fire?”

“I’m sorry, Sally! They arrived so suddenly…”

Sally’s arms buzzed as her nanite blades grew from her wrists. Yet as she arrived at the Blaze’s thrashing, half-consumed form, she hesitated.

“Sal—mmff!”

“I don’t have a clear angle!” Sally cried, watching as Blaze’s body grew further from reach. She slashed quickly through two wraiths at either side of her, then whirled to look towards the Cyclone. “Where’s Tails?! Tails, do you come in? When Nicole finds the power crystal I—”

“I’m right here, Sally.”

Sally twisted to the voice that had come from directly beside her; and there he was. Older and lankier than she remembered, with a mop of long hair spilling over his forehead and neck. The reflection of her eyepiece flashlight was a brilliant white bead floating on the surface of his glazed blue eyes.

“Er—Tails—” Sally quickly shoved Tails aside to cut through a wraith just behind him. Its moaning halves fell away into two ink puddles. “What are you doing out of the Cyclone?”

“I… I…”

“rrreeEEEEEEE!”

Violent metal sounds – like an off-beat industrial die punch – signaled that Rosy had awoken. Sally grabbed Tails by the arm and started running toward the Cyclone, looking over her shoulder as a clot of black and red mist lifted Blaze further into the sky.

“Shoot,” Sally muttered. _This better not be it for us._

“Sally, I’ve located their power crystal!”

Sally’s glanced to where Nicole had highlighted the crystal; it was hovering thirty feet from the ground. “Okay, we— agh!”

Sally winced at the pain in her scar as Tails fell down beside her, nearly tripping her. He pulled his arms from her grip to hold his chest. “I can’t,” he gasped.

Sally briefly looked toward the Cyclone. It wasn’t fifteen feet away. She sliced through another wraith moving toward her, then reached down to grab Tails’ arm again. “Tails, we’re nearly there! Come on!”

Tails swatted her away as he fell on his side. His legs twitched violently. His arms had curled in. He was gasping for air.

Sally looked again toward the Cyclone. _Wait…_ she squinted. In the folds of its legs, those darker parts… its shadows… were they _moving?_

As if reading her thoughts, Nicole announced, “Sally – I'm detecting wraiths in the Cyclone!”

“They cut us off,” Sally murmured in disbelief. “Just how smart are they?” She looked back towards camp. Rosy had nearly vanished beneath a storm of the inky creatures, almost certainly all of her own creation. _She’s not gonna hold out much longer… I’ve got a minute to think of something. Less._

Sally looked down at Tails, whose movement had stopped. _Fainted._ She found her eyes drawn to the small green light of his communicator. She looked at her own wrist.

“Nicole, how much data can you pass through these communicators?”

“They’re lower-end, long-distance UHF radio transmitters,” Nicole said. “I can send encrypted text very quickly, but anything else would take longer.”

“Then can you send commands to another culture of nanites?” Sally crouched and unclipped Tails’ communicator. “Between these two, maybe?”

“I…” Several rows of processing code rushed through the lower-left of Sally’s HUD. “I can do that Sally, yes!”

“Great, okay.” Sally’s eyes flicked up towards the crowd of wraiths, now finished with Rosy, moving towards her. “Make me a baseball out of this blade.”

The nanite blade on her left arm curled up and chittered at the edges as it formed a hollow ball. Sally popped it from her wrist, and wrapped Tails’ communicator around it.

“I’m going to throw this into the cockpit. I’m trusting you to find and trigger the ignition, then align the targeting system to hit the crystal, okay?”

“I won’t have any visual, Sally! And those nanites have limited sensation! But… I’ll try!”

“Go!” Sally tossed the ball overhead. It rebounded from the lifted glass of the cockpit and landed in the pilot’s seat. The air buzzed behind her – she dropped into a roll to dodge a set of claws. “And keep me updated!”

“Will do!”

Sally stood and turned to face the troops of wraiths. Equipped now with only one blade, she shifted her stance to keep sideways and minimize her target. The one that had just attacked her swung again; she deftly dodged and swiped through with an uppercut. Another behind it; she followed through her earlier momentum, jumped up, and brought the blade down to cut it down the center. Another behind it; Sally crouched to dodge lunge of claws and swung backhanded to split through.

The motor of the Cyclone churned to life; its headlamps flashed on, sparking the night-gray sands white. “I found the ignition, Sally!”

The inky bodies of the defeated wraiths draped over Tails’ sleeping form. Sally’s stomach twisted. She wanted to drag him along with her as she retreated, but that’d likely just get them both swallowed…

“I’m establishing remote piloting now!”

Sally glanced behind her. Her path of retreat was leading her in toward a talk, vertical cliff face. No chance of escape now. She just had to hold out as long as she could. In a precise, delicate dance with the advancing wave, she held back with every stroke of her sword. She had to cut deep enough only to startle and stall, not to kill; totally parting every target would just double the size of the advancing army.  

“Sally, I’ve nearly got it!”

Sally felt her arm start to ache. This couldn’t last. _The wall is coming up any…_

Thud.

And there it was. “Nicole!” Sally screamed. A set of claws dug into her left arm as she swung wildly with her right. The strategy was gone now. _Survive,_ her heart screamed. _Survive!_

BADOOM

A flash of red light washed over everything – in an instant, Sally saw the contours of every cliff, every dead tree. The pressure vanished from her arm, and in the following instants, the wraiths dissolved up into the sky, like smoke from blackened bread.

Sally stumbled from the wall, her heart pounding in her ears. Her vision gradually returned.

“They're gone?” she asked.

“Yes, Sally. EM is clear.”

Nursing her arm, Sally paced over to Tails’ unconscious form. She crouched beside him, resting a hand on his forehead. “How is he?”

“Vital signs normal, Sally. He seems to have experienced a neurally mediated syncope… likely the product of a panic attack.”

“I don’t blame him.” Sally stood, her eyes still tracing his features. She sighed. “He needs help.”

“… I agree.”

“Where are Blaze and Rosy?”

“Their communicators reciprocate pings at 90 and 60 feet, respectively.”

“So, not too far. Okay.” Sally rubbed her face. “That was _way_ too close for comfort. How are we going to counter these guys when they cripple us at the start of every fight?”

“Sally... I’m afraid I have some additional bad news.”

“Well, don’t hold back now.”

“The wraiths seem to have damaged the water containers in the Cyclone…”

Sally turned to look at the idling Cyclone. Sure enough, the storage panel had been pried open – inside, the barrels now bore wide gashes. A dark trail in the sand ran from the Cyclone’s left leg to a wide, marshy puddle a few feet away.

Sally sighed. “We’ve got a lot to figure out.”

\---

Three hours later, the sky turned milky blue with morning sun. Blaze and Rosy had been retrieved and woken up; Tails had retreated to the confines of the Cyclone; and Sally paced around the remains of their fire.

“Our water rations are completely shot. I only salvaged a half liter, and it’s dirty.” She stopped pacing. “We have to call a retreat. Get back to base, stock up, try again tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not.” Blaze’s dragged her hair out of her eyes. Her tie had broken in the attack. “Not when we’re so close to the lost Sol.”

“Then why don’t you just use the Emeralds you _do_ have to warp back to HQ, restock our water, and bring it here? We can get moving again in less than an hour. No progress lost.”

“Not possible. _Solus sol deservit_. The Emeralds serve only myself. The most I can teleport with use of Sol Control is my body and a thin layer of flame-resistant clothing. Trust me. I’ve had many years of training in the subject.” Blaze planted a finger on her sleeve to emphasize her point. “Besides, repeated use of the Sols here could severely endanger this world. If both sets of Emeralds are being used actively within the same dimension, the effects can be apocalyptic. That’s part of why it’s urgent we find the seventh Sol in the first place.”

“Well then look, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but how close we are to realizing our objectives isn’t going to matter if we die of thirst in the process.”

“It’s just two days away. The body can survive three days without water.”

“And then? Don’t forget that everyone besides you has to march back after the fact.”

Blaze scowled. “Then _you_ retreat here. I’ll go on. At my full speed, two hundred miles should only take a day. I can finish the job myself.”

“And what about the wraith singularity? How do you plan to handle that, _yourself_?”

“I’ll 'handle' it by ignoring it. It was always a secondary objective. All _I_ need to do is recover the Sol.”

“You can’t possibly think it’s a coincidence the two are both out there, together. The closer we get the more the readings indicate they’re practically on top of each other.” Sally waved a hand to the horizon. “There’s no way you’ll get within a mile of the Sol without getting eaten alive. You nearly were last night!”

Blaze kicked over a small boulder in impulsive rage. A charge of fire blew out of her boot, scorching the rock’s surface black.

“I don’t like the ghosts!” Rosy yelled, from where she sat rocking, knees to her chest, a few yards away. “They make me stop breathing! And when I smash them they get bigger! That’s not _normal_!”

“I know, Rosy. I—"

“It’s wrong! It’s _wrong_!”

“Would you stop screaming?!” Blaze jabbed a finger at Rosy.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Rosy stood and manifested her hammer. It landed in the sand with a weighty _clang_.

Blaze rushed towards her. “Let’s settle this, vagrant!”

“Blaze, stop!” Sally whipped a golf-ball sized sphere of nanites towards Blaze. Tagging her back, they quickly unfurled and wove into the fabric of her clothes, snaking through in instants to tangle her ankles. She tumbled to the sand.

“The new remote detainment sphere worked perfectly, Sally. Good aim.”

“And Rosy, please stay where you are. Please.” Sally pointed to the hedgehog. “If you need to smash something, take it out on those rocks.”

Rosy creased her face with a profound pout, but let her hammer vanish. She crossed her arms. “Hmph! I don’t _need_ to smash anything, ‘cause I do what I want!”

Blaze writhed on the ground.

Sally pinched her nose. “This team is doomed.”

“… Sally?”

Sally opened her eyes, looking to her wrist. “Yes, Tails? I hear you.”

“I think I have an idea. Um, about the water.”

It was his first communication since he'd silently rushed to the Cyclone earlier this morning. “Let’s hear it,” Sally said.

“Unbind me, Sally. This is humiliating.”

“Nicole.” Sally pointed to Blaze’s tangled body. The string of nanites unwound from her legs, spinning themselves again into a small ball. Blaze picked herself up, rubbing at her wrists. Rosy blew a raspberry at her.

“Um, about a hundred miles from here, is a place called Arsenal Pyramid. It’s an—it’s—it’s an Eggman base.”

“Okay. What are you thinking?”

“So what, uh, happened before the war was… Eggman would build these places to suck up the water nearby?”

“Right, Knuckles told me that was how he advanced the desert.”

“Yeah. But he had to keep the water, um, separate, so that it wouldn’t reenter the ecosystem. He’d store it.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “So… this Arsenal Pyramid is like an artificial reservoir?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

Sally and Blaze exchanged a look.

“It’s still… a military base, though. There’s gonna be um, robots and stuff. Guards.”

“And,” Sally added, “it’s a gambit. We can turn back now easily, but if we fail out there… it gets a lot harder.”

“You already know my answer.”

Sally looked down. She was at the edge of her life not hours ago; marching into certain peril again now seemed almost… irreverent of that fact. But of the few proverbial twines of thin, thin string keeping this group together, the immediacy of these objectives was perhaps the least thin.

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Rosy sniffed. “I wasn’t listening.”

\---

“I see it, Sally.”

Gradually, the blazing silver triangle of its form edged up from the horizon; looking too long into it left a ghostly blue shade in the eye. It was a landmark whose well-maintained sheen represented the agency and industriousness of intelligent life. In a landscape otherwise devoid of purpose, that seemed at all times to be succumbing slowly to erosion, to entropy, it embodied the indefatigable will of the conqueror. Arsenal Pyramid.

Sally raised her wrist to her mouth, her free hand choking up on her bike’s brake. “Let’s call a summit, team.”

In the field of pillared rocks a half mile out from the pyramid, Blaze landed to meet the others. “There’s no activity on the surface, but there's no telling what's inside.”

Sally rubbed at her mouth as she paced. “Good. We’ll need a small, tactical team, maybe just two or three people. Who wants to go?”

“Not it,” Rosy yawned. “I need my beauty sleep.”

“Right. That’s fair, Rosy. We did cut some daytime rest to make it here early, so why don’t you use this time to nap?”

“Let’s expedite this process. You and I will go.”

Sally turned to Blaze, who was again tugging down at the Resistance issue shirt. She pointed. “Is it really that uncomfortable?”

“I won’t pretend it’s not an incentive to finish this mission as fast as possible.”

“Okay. So, Nicole’s repaired two of the water drums. They’re aluminum, so not too bad to carry empty, but when filled they’ll be nearly 200 pounds. We’ll need some type of vehicle.”

“Why not use the huge vehicle immediately next to us?”

Sally glanced at the Cyclone. “It’s too loud for a stealth mission. If there are still guards and traps in there, the sound and size of the Cyclone would tip them off.”

“Then what do you propose we do?”

“We’ll need to hijack a vehicle inside and take it through a ground exit. We’ll rendezvous here, load the water, and put some distance between us and the base before setting up camp.”

Blaze nodded. “Very well. Let’s get this underway.”

\---

Sally attempted to slow her ragged breath, looking back down at the climb she and Blaze had undertaken to scale the base. Then she looked further, to the horizon. They were much too far inland to see the coast, but just within eyeshot was the mouth of a river, gone muddy with the dirt newly loosed from the grip of living vegetation, glistening brown in the late afternoon sun. She glanced at Blaze, who was standing beside her with arms crossed, stoically observing the desertified world and all its doom. Then Sally turned and looked down.

“Through the top, Tails?”

“That’s how Sonic did it, yeah.”

Arsenal Pyramid may have appeared stagnant from outside, but through its peak’s gate it was a world of giant, gnashing gears, lasers leaping from one receptacle to the next, and at the first visible floor far below, columns of marching robots.

“There's a whole lot of activity in there. I thought your Eggman was gone?”

“Yeah. Knuckles is pretty sure he’s, um… he’s pretty sure about that. The base guards are probably running on old protocols… What do they look like?”

Sally squinted. “Little round guys with… gray armor?”

“Yeah. Those are Gen IV Egg Pawns… just try to keep out of their sight, I guess.”

Through Sally’s eyepiece, Nicole highlighted the troops and labeled them with the new information. Sally studied them a bit longer before turning to Blaze.

“Did you want to look?”

“No.”

Sally scanned the side of Blaze’s face, then looked down to see her subtly jogging her leg. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tell me when it’s time to go.”

“Don’t you think you should learn as much as you can about the trap we’re about to dive into?"

Blaze flicked her gold eyes across to Sally. Then, she spun and walked to the edge of the opening, glanced down at the tunnel, and turned back. “There. I saw it. Now may we proceed?”

Sally stared. “… Sure. You are catching me, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then, here we go.”

Sally took a step back, bounced in place a moment, then rushed forward and leapt, spreading out her arms and legs to increase air resistance. _This’ll be a breeze. Done it a thousand times. Though my partner then was a little more... amenable._

The first laser grid was soon on her; she drew in her right arm and leg to drive the air currents across her body, successfully clearing it. Below that, two enormous gears were rolling through, closing the throat of the tunnel. She straightened into a dive and passed between their teeth; then spread out once again.

“Fifteen seconds to impact at current velocity, Sally,” Nicole buzzed in her ear.

There was an odd nostalgia in it, seeing the floors of Eggman machinery fly past. The wraiths were something supernatural, sinister. But this place – though it was the home of an enemy – was a familiar home nonetheless.

“Ten seconds to impact.”

It was at this point Blaze flew past her, head straight down, Resistance jacket fluttering. Her head swerved as she sized up the distance below them; then she flattened out, slowing enough to catch Sally’s hand.

“Get on my back!”

“Five. Four.”

Sally obeyed, tucking her arms under Blaze’s to grab her shoulders from the front. Nicole subtly wove the fabric of her shirt to the back of Blaze’s jacket.

“Three.”

Blaze’s fists and feet burst into flame. Sally’s wrists panged and her head jerked back as their freefall slowed.

“Two.”

Blaze started to hiss. The heat from her arms and legs intensified to scorching, even as offset by the wind. A pain traced up Sally’s ribs from the scar in her side.

“One.”

The whirling world around them ground to a halt. Blaze’s boots touched down slowly, and after a few moments of unweaving, Sally stepped free from her back. She quickly touched her stitches and checked her fingers for blood. Finding none, she whispered: “Cover, quickly.”

The two crouched and ducked behind a support rafter. Blaze had directed them to land on an upper scaffold overlooking the main base floor; they watched as Egg Pawns below diligently followed circuitous patrols, marched in columns pallbearing warheads, or idled at their posts.

“Look there.”

Sally followed Blaze’s extended finger to the far side of the room, where there towered seemingly endless rows of steel drums – each no less than thirty feet in height and diameter.

“Could that be the water?”

“It must be, right?” Sally ran a hand over her hair. “Draining an entire biome… the premise alone is terrifying.”

“The Eggman and his kin have committed trespasses against the multiverse so severe that the destruction of even this entire continent would hardly register at my family’s operative level.” Blaze adjusted her gloves. “Regardless... let’s get this over with.”

Sally eyed her a moment; then, she unhooked the empty water drums she had clipped to the sides of her chest harness, tucking one under her arm and handing the other to Blaze. She pointed to the water drums. “We’ll need to get over there, fill these up, and then somehow – probably rolling them – get them over there.”

She traced a path with her finger toward a fleet of parked roofless shuttle cars nearby. Each bore a few stacked bundles of missiles. “Then, we’ll load the barrels, and take one of those shuttles out a ground exit. That last leg is almost certainly going to be loud.”

“Loud?”

“It means, they’ll know we’re here. It’s almost impossible that we’ll manage to hotwire a shuttle without being seen. But until that time – for as long as we can – we need to go ‘quiet.’ That means stay low: your head should never be the highest thing within five feet of you.”

Blaze raised an eyebrow. “You’re awfully experienced with thievery for a princess.”

“Well,” Sally sighed. “It’s like I told you. When some guy claims to own your whole planet, just breathing air could be considered theft.”

“On your command.”

“Let’s move.”

With Sally on point, the two princesses traversed the room’s steel-grate catwalks until they reached the basin side of the room. Carefully measuring a touchdown point to keep out of sight, Sally set a hand on the catwalk railing and hopped to the other side. The nanites chittered in the palm of her glove as they melded to the steel. Then, with Nicole’s OK, she kicked off, a thin metal wire unraveling from her hand as she rappelled to the floor roughly forty feet below.

Once she touched down, Nicole disconnected the nanite anchor, and Sally stepped aside as the wire whipped to the ground. Her jacket’s material had been almost completely spent in the descent; but she set beside the coiled nanite wire, and with a signal from Nicole, it wound itself up her leg, around her waist, and steadily rewove her jacket.

Blaze hovered slowly down after her, using highly controlled jets of fire so as not to draw eyes or ears. With a mutual nod, they advanced to the nearest storage drum. In Sally's vision, Nicole highlighted a ladder on its side. “I recommend you tap from the middle. The pressure will be more manageable, and any impurities would be concentrated at the bottom.”

After scaling to the deck about halfway up the enormous drum, Sally flipped her barrel, setting its top against the drum wall. She pressed her thumb over the point where the two containers met to start the nanite reaction, then twisted open the tap to allow air to escape.

“Bridging them now, Sally.”

A moment later the sound of rushing water signaled the start of the transfer. Carefully Sally angled the drum to allow it to fill, which it did in seconds. Sally’s knees buckled at the astonishing weight the thing took on, and set it down with a huff. “Okay, next.”

After repeating the process for Blaze’s barrel and resealing the larger drum, they clipped the two to a cargo pulley and lowered them slowly to the floor.

From there, they began to roll the two back towards the shuttles. Sally grimaced at the initial grinding noise of the aluminum barrels on the pavement, but Nicole quickly suggested she retrim their outside to minimize contact and sound. They made the remainder of the trip in near silence, besides the distant sound of automation.

Arriving at the fleet, they chose the shuttle furthest from the main floor, quietly offloading the missile bundles and replacing them with their drums. Her arms aching from the work, Sally dropped into the shuttle’s driver seat and set Nicole’s PDA on the dashboard. Nanite tendrils trickled out from within its beige plastic shell, quietly winding into the car console.

“This shouldn’t take long, Sally. I estimate about two minutes.”

“Got it.”

Blaze dropped into the passenger seat beside her. In silence, the two scanned their surroundings; then, with her eyes still moving, Blaze said aloud, “They haven’t noticed us.”

“ _Don’t_ jinx it,” Sally muttered.

Another few moments passed.

“When I returned to this place – Dimension the First – two weeks ago and learned that Eggman’s Empire had gone from world domination to total oblivion in less than a year,” Blaze said, “I was initially confused about how such a thing could happen; but the longer we are in this place, the clearer it becomes that his fault was in making no legitimate effort towards security.”

“Never was his strong suit,” Sally quietly agreed. “We’d take advantage of that when we planted spies inside or mined his control points.”

“It’s because he still fancies himself a _hero_ ,” Blaze said. She tilted her head back. “See how he plasters his image onto everything he owns.”

“That’s a heroic quality to you?” Sally asked.

“To be loved is a heroic quality, yes. To be celebrated. Eggman spends so much time loving and celebrating himself, so much time swaddled in his own arrogance, that he never takes appropriate measures to defend what he owns.”

“What he _takes_ , you mean.”

“Yes,” Blaze acceded, with a shrug. “Now, compare him with Knuckles. As egregiously overbearing as the echidna can be, he works proactively. He focuses on what he has to protect.” Blaze crossed her arms. “He strives to be a _ruler_ , and doesn’t pretend otherwise.”

Sally shook her head. “So… you’re calling Eggman a ‘hero,’ and Knuckles a ‘ruler’? Don’t you think that terminology is a little confused?”

“I’m calling neither either,” Blaze said. “I’m merely rationalizing the actualities of their commands as consequential of the models of leadership they strive towards. Eggman’s narcissism – his commitment to being loved and to serving himself – makes him poor in an office of command long-term. Knuckles’… _qualified_ humility – his commitment to rendering a service, regardless of others’ opinion – makes him significantly more effective.”

“So when you ask me if I’m a ruler or a hero,” Sally said, her eyes still militantly scanning their surroundings, “you seem to believe that there’s a right answer. A 'good' answer.”

“Not necessarily.” Blaze said. “There will always be a place for both. I only—”

The screen of Nicole’s PDA flashed. “Ready, Sally. Two minutes forty seconds.”

“Good.” Sally sat forward. “Blaze, check the drums.”

Blaze turned and vaulted into the back bed of the shuttle. She tested the straps holding down the barrels. “Ready.”

Sally brought her wrist to her mouth. “Tails, do you read me?”

Tails' voice crackled through. “Yes.”

“What’s our situation outside like?”

“Um… no Eggman robots, like before. Rosy and I moved closer to terminal, uh, 3C,” he said. “You should probably hurry, Sally. The sun is setting.”

“Okay. We’re on our way. Commencing extraction now.”

“Have you driven an automobile before?”

“It’s… been a while. Let’s hope I remember.” Sally pressed her thumb to the ignition, kicking the shuttle motor to life. At the first piston fire several distant Egg Pawns swiveled their heads. “Shoot. Let’s move.”

Sally floored the gas pedal, screeching out of the shuttle bay towards the nearest tunnel. She squinted at the white lettering overhead: 4A. But at the next bay entrance, a whole column of Egg Pawns were already looking her way. _I can’t afford to drive through that many._

An alarm had triggered.  She swerved towards 4A, taking a hand off the wheel to shout into her communicator. “Tails, we’re taking a detour. Can you get to terminal 4A?”

“Uh— I don’t—”

A bolt of white light seared overhead with the sound of a deep, reverberant hum. Sally dropped in her seat, twisting to glance behind her. Blaze was crouched on the bed of the truck, looking up at three flying blue Egg Pawns. Their arms had been substituted for a type of blaster.

“What are those?” Sally shouted.

Moving as though she were underwater, Blaze slowly rose to her feet. Her arms followed a system of movements as ornate and precise as a dancers’ – and then, just the central Egg Pawn’s arms glowed with an imminent energy blast, Blaze whipped her arms forward to cast a bolt of fire. Struck, the Pawn tumbled backwards, fired its blast at the ceiling, and hit the floor.

Sally turned to look forward again. A turn was coming. She tugged on the wheel, eyeing Nicole’s speedometer as displayed in her HUD: 50 mph. There was light ahead.

Another white laser ripped past the shuttle car, destroying the right headlamp. Sally turned back to check on Blaze, only to see that the number of flying Egg Pawns had tripled. Blaze was now uncapping the head of a missile – _she must have grabbed it back at the bay._

“Hey! Do you know what you’re doing with that?!”

Blaze pinched something within the missile head, pulling out a clump of wire.

“What are you doing!” Sally eyed the blasters of the remaining Egg Pawns. “Blaze!”

Wordlessly, and with intense focus, Blaze pulled a capsule the size of her forearm from inside the missile. She ran her nose over it, then yelled, “Black powder!”

“What?!”

Dropping the missile body, Blaze suddenly lunged forward, plunging her claws into the back of Sally’s chair, and tearing off a strip of cloth. She wrapped it around the capsule and rubbed her fingers over its end to light it.

Sizing up the distance, Blaze braced; then, with the torque of her entire body, hurled the capsule out at the Egg Pawns. With a deafening clap, the Egg Pawns were hurled every direction, into the walls and floor, crumpling and scattering their metal bodies across the corridor.

Sally breathlessly looked ahead, only to see that the light of the outside world was dwindling – not for its own sake, but as it slowly disappeared behind a descending door. She leaned into the gas, but it was already floored. Turning, she called, “Blaze!”

Blaze whipped to look at her, her hair spinning. “What is it!”

“Give us some extra!”

Blaze looked ahead, and recognizing the situation, immediately hopped to the end of the flatbed and hung her lower body over the edge, blasting fire from her boot soles to propel the shuttle car; with inches to spare, they cleared the gate door, and vanished out into the churning wall of a sandstorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has helped get this fanfic to over 500 views and 30 kudos. You're all wonderful.
> 
> Thank you in particular to those of you who have contributed to our nearly 40 comments and 4 bookmarks. I couldn't be happier with your engagement, and while it may take some time to see your feedback pay dividends, I can assure you none of it goes unread.
> 
> Once Part 1 is finished, or possibly sooner, I will likely change the title description (what turns up in search results) for this fanfiction - make it a bit more informative.
> 
> This Friday we'll return to Sonic and co. I will say that things will get a little more down-tempo for a bit. Thanks again.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	19. Forget me Knot

##  19 – Forget me Knot

Car horns distantly sounded as Mina felt like the world was bucking under her feet. Here in the heart of Station Square, beside the statue in a garden lit with white-electric lamps, Sonic was looking back at her with a foggy smile, brow pinched in honest confusion.

Mina swallowed.“Ha ha. It's... that's really funny, Sonic.”

“No, really. Who’s Sally?” Sonic’s smile faded to a grimace. “Ooh, is she someone important? Are we, like…”

“Uh!” Mina clapped. “You know what, why don’t we find that Emerald?”

“Wait, really. Is she really important?” Sonic’s voice slipped towards mild desperation. “‘Cause then, I think I oughta know.”

“Yeah, Sally’s important. On like, multiple levels. And, uh, I really think we’re better off looking for the Emerald to just get home so she can explain it herself. So I—so I don’t have to.” Mina gave a faux smile and a thumbs up.

Sonic ran a hand over his quills. “Hoo boy. Okay.”

Mina turned to walk away when the jackal sidestepped out from behind the statue.

“--aaAAh!—Ugh.” Mina put a hand over her heart. “You have _got_ to stop doing that.”

“Apologies, Mina; greetings, Sonic.”

“Yeah, bonjour. How long have you been you there?”

“The entire time.”

“The enti—”

“Dude.”

“Um, okay. I know your people don’t do names, but do you not do _privacy_ either?”

“Just the opposite. We value privacy greatly. I kept myself hidden so as not to interrupt.”

Mina shook her head.

“Welp. If you got here first, I guess that means you won our little race.”

“I suppose it does. I—”

The jackal turned suddenly. Sonic followed his line of sight.

“What—”

“Shh.” The jackal held up a silvery finger. “Did you hear that?”

Mina looked to Sonic. _What?_ she mouthed.

Sonic shrugged.

“There’s something… rattling.” The jackal drew his sword. “Be on your guard.”

Sonic closed his eyes, concentrating. _Some horns… music from a speaker… someone yelling…_

_FWOOSH_

Sonic’s eyes shot open. A huge column of pink water rose through the air overhead.

“I heard something!” he announced.

“Look out!” the jackal turned and tackled Mina; immediately after, a manhole cover embedded itself in the dirt where she’d been standing with a heavy _thunk_.

The column of pink water arced mid-air, redirecting itself towards them. It landed some twenty-five yards out, holding its shape even after impact as it rounded out to an oblong bubble.

“I think our ol’ friend’s back.” Sonic said, as Mina and the jackal picked themselves up.

As the bubble churned, dark shapes appeared to form within: wobbling black bones, structuring themselves like an altar around six glowing points of colored light.

The jackal moved to stand beside Sonic. “That’s six, Sonic.”

“Yeah. Guess he’s been keepin’ busy.”

Long legs unfurled from the rippling body, elevating the central mass up from the ground. A long, towering limb headed with a scythe-like blade curled forward over its back. A pair of glowing crimson eyes rolled up from its belly to sit vertically in the center of its head.

Mina held back beside the statue. “Wait—six? How many are there, again?”

“Seven,” Sonic said. “I wonder… did he already get the one I figured was here, or is he lookin’ for it now?”

Chaos marched towards them, a gnashing jaw cutting itself free from the bottom of its face. It swung its scythe-tail around – Sonic and the jackal ducked, and its momentum continued through to slash the side of the statue. Mina shrieked as its arm narrowly missed her.

“Just stay back, Mina. We’ve got this!” Sonic nodded to the jackal, who reciprocated. The pair rushed forward towards Chaos 6.

“Orders?” the jackal called.

“Uh—” Sonic watched Chaos 6 as it marched towards them. His eyes trained on the precise movements of its lower body. “Try taking out its legs!”

“Understood!”

Narrowly dodging swipes of its tail, Sonic rounded Chaos’ left side as the jackal rounded the right. Sonic spun into a spindash, cutting quickly through the three small joints and scattering pink water; the jackal did the same, slashing the red blade of his saber through. Crippled, Chaos collapsed with a loud sloshing sound.

Sonic and the jackal regrouped opposite it. “Now what?” the jackal asked. “Do we go for the Emeralds?”

“No way,” Sonic said, studying Chaos as it roiled and screamed. “You’ll get sucked in. That’s the last thing you want.”

“Then what is your plan?”

Chaos’s intact tail slid fluidly up to its top, then nearly doubled in size as water rippled up its body towards it. Small beads of light formed on its deformed body’s surface. Sonic glanced down to see droplets of pink water coagulating into slug-looking chunks that slunk slowly towards the main body.

“It’s healing!”

The beads of light suddenly rocketed out like missiles from its skin out towards the trees of the park, then anchored into them, embroiling Sonic and the jackal in a nest of pink tendrils. One struck the statue near Mina, breaking its already weakened structure in half. Mina zipped aside as it fell to the ground, training her eyes on the broken body.

“Okay, that didn’t work!”

With a sudden lash of its body, Chaos’ tail crashed down beside Sonic, who only narrowly dodged it. Chunks of sod sprayed over his legs. He carefully flipped between the tendrils, away from the tail. Chaos lifted it high again.

“Have you really fought this beast before and devised not _one_ tactic _?_ ” the jackal called to him.

“Planning fights isn’t really my thing!” Sonic called back. “That’s more Tails’ job! Or Knuckles, or... I just work with what I got at the time! Last time it was ice bots, this time, uh--"

The jackal paused from slashing through the tendrils to dive roll away from Chaos’ tail as it came down over him.

“Guys! Hey! Guys!” Mina called.

Sonic looked up towards Mina, who had climbed the broken half of the statue. Above her head, she was holding the red Chaos Emerald.

“This time it's that! Hey,” Sonic shouted, “Where’d you find that?!”

“It was inside the statue!” Mina called back. “Am I supposed to be touching it?!”

Chaos’ tendrils receded as its body returned to its earlier scorpion-like shape. Its red eyes reemerged to its surface, trained on the Emerald in Mina’s hand.

Freed of Chaos’ trap, Sonic zipped to Mina’s side. “Yeah, you can touch it - here, hold it like this.” Sonic quickly took Mina’s hands and wrapped them around the gem. He glanced over his shoulder: the jackal had stumbled to his feet and started to rush towards them, with Chaos coming fast behind him, gnashing its teeth at his tail.

Mina had followed his eyes and started to lean away. “Shouldn’t we be running?”

Sonic looked back. “Nope. Mina, Look at me.”

Mina’s olive eyes flicked back to lock with his.

“I need you to picture our home in your head, okay? Can you do that?”

Mina shut her eyes. “Um, okay.”

Sonic looked back. The jackal and Chaos were just yards away.

“You got it? You have it in your head?”

“Um--uh--Yes!”

“Okay. Focus hard!” Sonic shouted to the jackal as he came near. “Grab on!”

The jackal dove forward, clasping his clawed glove around Sonic’s forearm. Chaos’ teeth closed in on his legs—

“Chaos Control!”

The darkness around them shocked to a blinding, persistent light. The crisp city air gave way to a muggy atmosphere. Sonic cracked an eyelid: they were in a world of green and brown. A forest. Colossal trees towered above them, with thatch-roof treehouse bungalows populated the bark of their trunks. The hum of bugs and the ambient cries of birds overwrote the car horns and distant, thudding bass.

The force of the jackal's dive had pulled Sonic and Mina to their knees.

“This... type of vegetation is foreign to me,” the jackal said.

“Oh my god,” Mina said, looking up. “Oh… my god.” She looked over to Sonic. “Did you take us back in time?”

“Uh, I don’t think so. I'm... pretty sure that's impossible.” Sonic stood, turning to take in the setting. “But you’re the one that wished us here. What’s the problem?”

“What, you can’t tell? You… No.” Mina stood, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You… you can’t tell me you don’t know where we are?”

Sonic looked worriedly back at her.

“It’s Knothole, Sonic. It’s the Great Forest! Our hometown! You said it was destroyed in the war!” She scanned his face for a reaction, and finding none, grabbed his wrist and tugged at it. “Here - come on, I’ll show you.”

Sonic followed her lead as the two zipped around some winding cobblestone pathways to a stout house beneath a low branch.

“This,” Mina said, “is your home.”

Sonic studied it carefully. _It's... kinda familiar. But…_

“Come on, let’s go inside.” Mina waved him forwards as she walked towards the door. “Come on!”

Sonic followed as she turned the handle and swung it open.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hedgehog!”

“Whoa, hold up.” Sonic stopped walking and mimed a time-out. “Who?”

Mina spun around in the doorway. “Your mom and dad,” she said.

“What? No. No way! I do _not_ have parents, never have.”

“Yes you do. What, are you—wha—you kidding me? Where do you think you came from?”

“I—yeah, no. I get that part.” Sonic shook his head. “I just—nobody raised me, okay? I’ve got memory issues, sure, but I know that much for a fact.”

“Yeah, and those ‘memory issues’ involve forgetting me and the love of your life, ‘okay?’ Here—” Mina zipped inside.

“Love of my life?” Sonic asked aloud.

Mina returned holding a picture frame. “Here, look at this photograph. I got it from _your room_. It’s _your parents_ , Jules and Bernie Hedgehog.”

She held the photo frame up to his face. Sonic instinctively grabbed it and held it at arm’s length, letting his eyes refocus. Sure enough, there he was with two other hedgehogs: a purple woman maybe in her early 40’s, and a… _metal hedgehog?_

Sonic started laughing. “Is that supposed to be my _dad_?” he asked. “You’re tyrna tell me my dad’s a robot?”

“Well,” Mina’s voice grew quiet. “Well uh, yeah. He’s… Robian, is what they’re called. My mom was one, too, before she got cured. But...”

“She _was_? She got _cured?_ From being a _robot_?! What---what are you—”

“Look, that’s not the point! The point is that I took this from your room! It was right next to your guitar, and your racecar bed, and all your other stuff! You _have_ parents!”

Sonic lowered his arms. _I play the guitar? How… how much have I forgotten? Racecar bed? No, wait. This isn’t possible, it’s--this is stupid! I’d remember parents, wouldn’t I? I… I…_

Mina pointed to the house. “Look, maybe they’re not home right now, but—”

“Here.” Sonic held out the picture frame, expressionless. “Take it.”

Mina accepted it. “What—”

Sonic vanished.

The air rushed after him, staggering Mina, who was left holding the frame with her hair blown completely over her face. “Hey!” she called after him, brushing it aside. “Sonic!”

 _Was that… too much at once?_ she wondered. She looked down at the photograph in her hands and found herself faintly smiling. _Bernie looks so pretty here,_ she thought. Her smiled faded. _She’s gotta be so strong, with everything that happens to Jules and Sonic…_

 _The Hedgehogs!_ She spun around and looked to the house again. _Are they out?_ She ran forward again into the house, looking for any indication. But the stove and table were clear, and no lights were on. “Hello? Anybody home?” she called again, for good measure. “Muttski?”

She quickly rounded the property, finding no one. Then, something subconscious started nagging at her. She closed her eyes, focusing - _The birds, the wind, the bugs... ___ _ _\- but there was normally something else. A distant conversation, someone playing an instrument, someone working with wood. But there was nothing.__

____

She looked around. _I'd better find him again,_ she thought, and started to retrace the cobblestone walkways to where they’d first appeared. Around her, the world was stagnant. _It’s not just Sonic’s family… the entire place is abandoned._

____

She arrived at her destination, the dwarf oak at the center of town. There, the jackal was reclining on a bench, polishing the metal of his boots with a handcloth.

____

He spoke first. “Hello there.”

____

“… hello,” Mina responded. “Did you see Sonic come through here?”

____

“I’ll answer that in a moment,” the jackal said. "First..." He squinted at a particular spot on the toe of his boot and wiped at it with force. “You said that this was your home?”

____

“Yes,” Mina responded.

____

“Good,” the jackal said. The metal edges of his boots now gleaming, he tucked the handcloth back into the cuff around his ankle. He stood. “Then – my debt to Sonic is repaid.”

____

“Oh. Right.”

____

“I'll be taking my leave.”

____

Mina looked around. “Where're you gonna go?”

____

“I must return to the desert. My squad will be waiting for me.”

____

“Oh, you have, like, friends?”

____

“I wouldn’t call them…” the jackal tilted his head. “Yes. My friends.”

____

“That's good." Mina nodded. "Oh - but, then you’re gonna need Sonic to take you back, right? Because he just…”

____

“Yes. I saw the direction he went. I can track him from there.” The jackal started walking. “Follow me.”

____

\---

____

‘Great Forest’ was no misnomer. The trees towered overhead until they vanished into a canopy woven so thickly it gave the impression that all the world had been swathed in knit viridian cloak. The caps in the branches above shifted with the wind, and the wax-painted leaves scattered the light as it came down such that the entire place had the impression of being underwater. The air was rich with the smell of earth and life, above and below.

____

Sonic crouched to pick up an acorn at his feet. Even in these grand dimensions, the smallest detail spoke, so as to make the entire place at once feel enormous and in miniature.

____

But there was not a single sound.

____

He’d run beyond what he had figured were the city limits, to a clearing centered on a small hill. He turned to look back at it, noticing now that a small steel door was embedded on this side. “Huh,” he muttered. _Might as well._

____

He ducked inside, to find a long, low hallway lit by rustic square windows without panes. Directly across from the entrance was a serious-looking steel door. He tested it: _locked._ He turned his attention to the staircase at the hall’s end. _Evil dungeon?_ He wondered, jogging over.

____

But as he trotted around the doubled stairwell, he found he’d entered a… clubroom? There was a pool table, a sofa, a television with a game console. Three few wooden doors, one featuring a sign with the name MINA, lined the far wall. A short laugh escaped his lips. This place had that same energy his ‘house’ had had; not quite familiar, but unexpectedly welcoming, as though he’d helped design the place without ever seeing it.

____

He walked over to the sofa, where an acoustic guitar had been propped against the armrest. _Nice color,_ he thought, reaching out to glide his gloved fingers across its polished surface. He waited a moment, then leaned over and picked it up. He sat on the back of the couch and settled the instrument over his lap.

____

_Alright. Like how they do it in the music videos, I guess. A few fingers here –_ he pressed down at the neck of the guitar – _and then you just strum, like this._ He flicked the his hand over the open mouth of the guitar, letting his fingertips drag over the strings.

____

What followed was a brief, strangled, discordant sound: like a bad jazz singer caught a rotten tomato in the neck mid-song. Then, silence.

____

Sonic snorted; then let a meandering laugh rise up out of him afterward. Quiet, rocking laughs, as he shook his head. He sighed and set the guitar down, then fell back into the couch cushions.

____

“I have no idea how to play the guitar,” he said to no one.

____

A few minutes later, footsteps echoed in from the stairwell. Sonic righted himself on the couch as Mina and the jackal entered.

____

“Hey, Sonic.” Mina said.

____

“Hey Mina,” Sonic said, greeting her with a wave. “Hey, Ultimate Mercenary.”

____

“Hello.”

____

“Sorry for ditching you back there,” Sonic said. “Things got a little too real.”

____

“Yeah. I’m sorry too.” Mina hopped up to sit on the edge of the pool table. “I shouldn’t have like, literally? shoved it in your face like that.”

____

“It’s cool.” Sonic said. “We’re cool.”

____

“You know,” Mina said. “About things getting ‘real’… I think something else might be going on here.”

____

“Yeah?”

____

“Because… Tails told me one time about these places called Zones. You know more about it than I do, probably, but… they’re like, other worlds, connected to ours, where everything’s the same… except not totally. I think. Maybe one thing’s changed, maybe more.”

____

“Yeah.”

____

“So, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re ‘Sonic.’ Same look, same speed. Same attitude. You even love chili dogs.”

____

“Guilty.”

____

“But in your memories, I’m not there. I figured, a bad enough knock on the head might knock _me_ clean outta that… thick skull, but there’s no way you could ever forget Sally. Or your parents. Especially not when you remember Tails or Amy.” Mina idly rolled a cue ball out to bounce against the opposite bumper of the pool table. It rolled slowly back to her. “So, even though you are Sonic, you’re not _my_ Sonic. I don’t know if you’re in my Zone, or I’m in yours, or if we got caught somewhere in between, but…”

____

“… this is your home. But it’s not mine.”

____

“Yeah.” Mina swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

____

A few moments passed before Sonic drew in a quick breath, slapped his thighs, and stood to look at the jackal. “So! Mission accomplished, I guess. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, mister merc.” He snapped and the red Chaos Emerald materialized in his palm. “Mina, I’m gonna take this guy where he wants and then pop right back to help you sort things out. Won’t take five minutes.”

____

The jackal looked between Sonic and Mina. “I would accept,” he said, warily, “but I’m afraid there’s still something out of order here.”

____

Sonic looked to Mina, who was quietly nodding.

____

“What’s that?”

____

“You and Mina may hail from different Zones, but that would only be part of the problem. I’m afraid we’re also in some sort of… dream. Or simulation.”

____

“Huh?” Sonic looked down at his chest, then to the guitar beside him. “What gave you that idea?”

____

“You haven’t noticed, Sonic?” the jackal tilted back his head. “I’ve found my own senses are dulled. Hearing and smell in particular. What’s more, I’ve felt no hunger or thirst in the rough dozen hours we’ve been traveling together.”

____

“Huh.” Sonic put a hand on his stomach. “Guess you're right. I don’t normally think of that stuff ‘til it hits me.”

____

“I had imagined it might be a side effect from the Eggman’s capsule gas, or the constant teleportation. But I have no way to explain the shifting architecture of the casino, or the sheer coincidences we’ve been facing. Put simply, it doesn’t add up.”

____

“And, like, every place we’ve been to has been dead empty, Sonic. Except for maybe one or two people.” Mina added. “Maybe one place could be like that at a time, but in every town and city we’ve been to? … It’s too weird.”

____

“Yeah. I guess you’re right. But then…” Sonic looked down at the red Chaos Emerald in his hand. “Whose dream are we… in?”

____

As he spoke, the glow of the Chaos Emerald ceased, and just after he’d closed his mouth, it began to crumble away at the edges. Sonic watched, baffled, as it dulled and disintegrated in his hand like a piece of ancient paper in an impossible wind. He lifted his other hand to catch the dust, but by the time the particles reached his other palm there was nothing to catch.

____

Mina gripped her own arms. “Uh, that’s not gonna happen to me, is it?”

____

Sonic looked up at her. “I—”

____

Sonic’s eyes flicked to the side of the room, where one of the three dorm doors swung out on its hinge. It slammed against the wall. Mina yelped. The jackal turned, drawing his sword; but beyond the threshold of the basement door, there were only rolling green hills.

____

Mina hopped from the table and peered through. “But... aren’t we underground?” she asked.

____

Sonic looked back to the stairwell. It was gone. The wall now ran smoothly from the fridge around to the television. “Not anymore,” Sonic muttered.

____

The jackal squinted at the opened door. “Is… that?” He began pacing towards it.

____

“Hey, buddy, wait. You sure that’s a good idea?” Sonic pointed to him.

____

The jackal didn’t respond; he just continued walking, through the doorway, and onto the open grass outside.

____

Mina looked to Sonic. Sonic shrugged. “Guess we're a little starved for options,” he said, and vaulted over the couch. "Ready to go?"

____

Mina zipped beside him and grabbed his wrist. “I don’t wanna disappear,” she said.

____

“Don’t worry about it,” Sonic said, taking her hand. “You’ll be fine.”

____

Together, they crossed through.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I'm juggling quite a few projects at the moment. 
> 
> One project is conducting some research into a possible Bakugan fanfiction, although that wouldn't come together for quite a while. The lore there is looking almost as confusing as some segments of Sonic lore. Still, I think there's a lot of opportunity there.
> 
> We're about halfway through Part 1 now. Progress on writing Chapter 26 is a little stalled (again, projects) but once it is finished, I will have all of Part 1 written and ready to upload.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	20. Reflections

##  20 – Reflections

Granular crimson particles fizzed at the edges of the frame as Sonic and Mina joined the jackal on the other side. Sonic turned and looked behind them – the wooden door they’d passed through was now apparently embedded in the face of a checkerboard cliff. It swung shut. Sonic turned again to scan the horizon: rolling hills, towering palms, stray totem poles.

“Now _this_ place I recognize,” he said.

“Yeah?” Mina said. “Care to share?”

“Green Hill Zone,” the jackal announced. “… as it was a decade ago. Before the desert…”

“Before Eggman,” Sonic finished.

“Oh, great. Glad that jerk spread himself across every Zone he could.”

“This is impossible.”

“Well, not if we're dreaming, right? Ain't even the first doomed place we've dropped by. Actually...” He touched his chin. "That's getting to be a theme, isn't it?"

In the distance, a blue streak rounded a loop-de-loop, struck a red spring, and flew up to a stunning height. Mina shielded her eyes from the sun, squinting. “Hey,” she said, “Is that... a little you?” 

Sonic emulated her scrying technique. "Hey, so it is. Guess we really are--"

Just then, a small black-furred child rushed out from under Sonic and Mina's clasped hands.

“Whoa!”

“Oh, shoot!” Sonic looked to the cliff face up the hill behind them. The wooden door they’d exited had reopened; inside, a rustic clay hallway that had virtually replaced the clubroom.

Mina crouched as the child rushed to stand beside the jackal, a few feet ahead. With a softer voice, she called, “Where’d you come from, little guy?”

Apparently ignoring her, the child raised the crooked, partially-whittled wooden stick in his hand to point to the distant young Sonic. “See mama,” he cried. He turned back to look behind him, revealing a white muzzle… and mismatched eyes of gold and blue. “It’s Sonic the Hedgehog!”

“Oh… shoot.” Sonic murmured. He looked up to the back of the jackal’s head. “That's a mini me, and… that’s a mini-you.”

“Born-of-me, how many times do I have to tell you it’s _dangerous_ out here!” A harsh woman’s voice boomed from behind them. The jackal and Sonic both whipped around to see an older jackal woman standing in the doorway. “You’ll be killed just like your fool brothers! Get back inside!”

“But look, Sonic is stopping Eggman’s robots! They can’t hurt us anymore now!”

“I said, _back inside!_ ”

“Okay.”

After a slight hesitation, and a final longing look, the young jackal rushed back towards his home. Sonic stepped aside, but the child swung his stick at the last moment - it faded through Sonic's wrist, its image reforming on the other side. A stream of transient, glittering red particles scattered over his arm.

“Wh-uhh, that felt weird,” Sonic said.

“Mama,” the child jackal continued, “when I grow up, I’m gonna be like Sonic! Like a real hero!”

The woman slammed the door shut. Sonic and Mina both looked back to the jackal they’d traveled with, who was now staring at the ground.

Sonic cleared his throat. “You didn’t tell me you were a fan, jackal man. I could have autographed your magic sword for you.”

“You were cuter as a kid,” Mina added.

The jackal looked up at them with a tightened jaw. The light overhead suddenly dimmed, and Sonic looked up to see clouds coagulating in the sky.

“Uh, uh oh. More weird dream stuff.”

Mina tightened her grip on Sonic’s hand.

With the distant sound of thunder the door flew open again. Sonic and Mina turned to watch as a jackal with the uneven lankiness of an early teenager marched with a set brow away from the house. A wooden sword was slung in a cloth strap around his waist.

“You get back here, born-of-me!” His mother’s voice followed him, truncated at the end with a sudden cough. The younger jackal held back as she came to the door, nearly doubled over, gray hair fraying the edges of her muzzle. “You are _not_ going out there to see that—” _cough_ “—idiot gang again!”

“Hey Ma, you know I’ve done more than get born now!” The younger jackal pointed to her. “They call me raids-the-western-banks!”

“They call you—” _cough_ “—what now? I don’t care what name those hooligans give you. You come back in—” _cough_ “—here where it’s safe! No life out there in that tortured world is worth living—” _cough_.

“Yeah,” the jackal said, cutting her short. “I don’t think any more of a life crammed in a little room with you is worth living either. Sorry, Ma. Goodbye.”

“Hey, you get back—” The woman’s voice frayed into a cough that lasted several seconds. She leaned hard against the door frame for support. The younger jackal slowed his steps. His head began to turn, when his mother regained her computer and continued, “You get back here, born-of-me!”

With that last remark, the son shook his head and continued his march away.

Sonic felt his feet shift under him and looked down in time to see a ripple of red energy pass below the soles of his sneakers. He spun his head to watch it roll along the earth of the darkening earth like a wave; overhead, the sky had run black with smog. Sonic’s gaze then trained on the jackal, whose eyes were pinched shut. His lip was curled up to reveal rows of jagged teeth. His tremoring throat seemed to suggest he was saying something.

Sonic had just opened his mouth when a sound like shattering wood went off behind him. He whirled back around to see that the door had been blown off its hinge. An Egg Pawn was stationed outside – its head rolling idly around as part of its patrol protocol.

Then, its vision snapped to the right as it trained its electric blue eyes on a target. Its readied its blaster, letting off one or two shots. A black figure whirled in from nowhere, deflecting the blaster bolts with a gleaming metal sword. With two clean swipes, he severed the Egg Pawn’s arm and slashed through its body.

As the stranger slowed, Sonic distinguished the features he’d already figured he would. Long, white hair; a striped pattern of fur around the ribs; and now a set of metallic boots and gloves. It was their jackal, just a year or two younger now. He rushed inside.

“Ma, I came as soon as I – oh, no. No. No. No—”

A few moments passed. The Egg Pawn, its upper body still functional, dug the hand of its undamaged arm into the soil and dragged itself gradually toward the door. At the edge of his eye, Sonic saw Mina cover her mouth.

The jackal reemerged running, and immediately tripped over the Egg Pawn, hitting the ground with a hard _thud_.

“You are _weak_ before the might of the Eggman Empire. Submit and obey, or be terminated! You are _weak_ —”

Bursting into a wild scream, the jackal drew the sword from his waist and cut off the Egg Pawn’s arm. Then, crawling toward it, he brought the sword down again and again over its body, slicing it to pieces. “I’m not _weak!_ ” he screamed, between the gasps and primal yell.

When he had finished with the upper body, he staggered to the legs of the Egg Pawn and began swinging the sword down relentlessly, butchering its body to pieces. “I’m not weak,” he added again, quietly, and rising, slammed his sword into the ground for a final time. It held upright as he walked away, murmuring, “I’m not weak. I’m not _weak_. I’m _not_ weak.”

“Enough.”

Sonic and Mina turned again to look at the jackal, who had slumped to his knees.

Overhead, the darkness of the clouds had blended seamlessly to the earth; and together the black horizon rippled suddenly with a purple-red light. Beneath them, the ground broke into meter-cube blocks with glowing purple edges; above them, the sky fizzed with strobe-light lines and distant surrealistic smears of purple light.

“Sonic?” Mina tightened her grip.

“You’re fine,” Sonic said. “Looks like… we’re in Null Space.”

“‘Null Space’?” Mina repeated. “What does that - what does that mean? We're dead?”

“We’re not dead,” Sonic said. He looked around. “This place is a pocket Zone, created by the Phantom Ruby. It’s this world of infinite… nothingness. Guess we just musta been filling it with our memories… and dreams.”

“So, like a dream ‘world’? Can I kick myself and wake up? Because I really, really wanna wake up.”

“No, not a dream world. That's a different place.” Sonic scratched his chin. "This is more like a virtual reality."

“What? How do you know all that?”

Sonic continued scratching his chin. "I don't... know," he drawled.

Mina stared silently at him, then shook her head. “Actually, you know what? I don’t care. Just, how do we get out?”

“We, uh, heh, don’t.”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you right.”

“Look – okay. You and I can probably get out, yes.”

“Oh, nice! Much better, that time. How do we do it?”

“Yeah… never thought I’d say this, but… not so fast.” Sonic raised a finger. “I say you and I can get out, because last time, I got out by doin’ a Double Boost with this ace Resistance Soldier. You’re even faster than he was, so it’ll prolly work with you and me, but… I’m not just gonna ditch our friend here. Especially… after what we just saw.”

Sonic looked uncomfortably to the jackal, who was still sitting, unmoving, where he had collapsed earlier.

Mina bit her lip. “But… you said everything here is an illusion.”

“Well, most of it prolly is, yeah.”

“So why couldn’t he be part of that? Couldn’t he just be… fake, too?”

Sonic squinted. “No, I don’t think he’s—”

“Because—because I know I’m real. But everything else could be fake, right? Apparently like, the entire ground, and my home,” Mina released her hand from Sonic’s for the first time since Knothole. She wiped it on her skirt. “No, you could… if they could make everything so real, then _you_ … you could…”

“Mina—”

“No, no… and him, and you could both be fake too, it could all be fake. Even _me_ …”

“Mina, I need you to keep it together here. Take some deep breaths—”

“The _ground!…”_

Sonic looked down. Between the gaps in the floor blocks, pink water had started to bubble up around the soles of his sneakers. The black, purple-streaked sky above faded to a smooth gray. The ground rocked beneath them as stretches of the floor matrix wove itself together and crusted over with the jagged rind of worn asphalt. Moments later, broken skyscrapers ruptured from the earth, raining down shards of glass and streams of pink water.

They were now on a stretch of broken overpass, in Station Square; and, over the top of the newly-risen row of shattering buildings, Sonic saw the head of a blood-red Perfect Chaos rear back in a deafening roar.

“What is that?!” Mina screamed. “What is _that!_ What's _happening!_ ”

Sonic looked to Mina in time for his footing to drop suddenly beneath him. The overpass had fallen. He landed hard on his right hip; wincing, he pressed down his sneaker soles to keep himself from sliding down the now-45-degree slope. No dice; but, he managed to grab hold of the red-painted guardrail just as his ankles hit the churning pink water. He shuddered at the chill.

“Sonic!”

Sonic looked up to see the jackal holding Mina at the wrist – his other arm clutched his red sword, planted into the asphalt above.

“Nice catch, Mr. Mercy!” Sonic grit his teeth in a pained, but genuine, grin.

“Still think I’m imaginary?” the jackal grunted to Mina.

Mina swallowed, then looked down. “Sonic, what do we do?!”

“Uh.” Sonic looked down at the raging water. “Good question! I—”

_KREE-AK_

Sonic twisted around. Behind him, less than a block away, the face of a building had cracked free. Like a felled giant, it plunged with a morbid grace to the water below, throwing off a frothing pink wave no less than twenty feet high. It lumbered magisterially toward Sonic, who tightened his grip on the guardrail and drew his knees to his chest, bracing.

“Aw, shiiiiiiiii—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everybody!
> 
> I've successfully survived one gauntlet of work - the next is incoming. Lately, I've been getting a lot of ideas for Book 7 - looking forward to that one almost as much as Books 4 and 6.
> 
> Bit of a short chapter, but there are reasons. Besides, it seems like our story's coming to a bit of a head! We'll be back to Sally's group this Friday.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	21. Nearing Deliverance

##  21 – Nearing Deliverance

The door slammed behind them, and the world was lost in a sandstorm red with sunset. Sally leaned into the brake, pinching her eyes shut against the sand and pressing her face to her sleeve. Nicole automatically extended her eyepiece into goggles, but even after she’d opened her eyes, Sally couldn’t see anything through the sand. She pulled her shirt up over her mouth.

Behind her, Blaze was coughing. Sally turned to see the cat climbing back up onto the flatbed, jacket pulled over her head, her other arm waving for contact. Releasing the brake, Sally reached back to grab Blaze’s hand.

“Nicole, are detecting any enemies? Wraiths or robots?”

“Infrared and radio are clear, Sally!”

Sally held tight to Blaze’s arm as the two were lashed with vicious waves of sand. She could actually feel the shuttle rocking beneath them from the force of wind.

“Tails! Do you come in?”

“I—a—the—”

“Tails, I didn’t get that, over!”

No response. Sally lowered herself in her seat, attempting to use the side doors as shielding. Roughly a minute passed in this way, until the storm vanished from around them as abruptly as they’d arrived in it.

Looking up at the cleared twilight, Sally lifted herself to a sitting position. Beside her, Blaze pulled her jacket back from her head. Making sense of her surroundings, she turned to check that both the barrels were still in place.

Sally released her hold on Blaze’s arm as she stood to look around.

“Wait, what?”

They had moved roughly a half mile out from Arsenal Pyramid. _How? The storm?_

“—Sally?”

“Tails? I read you. Where are—”

“Turn around.”

Sally twisted to look behind her. The Cyclone was marching towards them, with Rosy perched on top, her pink quills swaying with the pace of the machine. Sally’s bike was welded to the Cyclone’s leg, as she’d left it.

Sally collapsed back into her seat. “Oh, thank the Source.”

“The what?” Blaze muttered. “Wait. Look there.”

Sally looked to where she was pointing, where the high wall of the sandstorm was steadily receding. She squinted. Towards the bottom of it, a smaller, distinct ball of whirling sand seemed to have separated itself and was now moving towards them.

“Nicole?”

“No... clear readings, Sally.”

Blaze stood and hopped down from the truck flatbed. She freed up her hands. Just then, Tails arrived with Rosy. The four trained their eyes on the compartmented sandstorm. It seemed to be… shrinking.

Then, the ball of sand dissolved entirely, and revealed a Beryllian figure. It wore a hooded purple cloak, which covered nearly all its body, save a set of purple boots below. Its only other distinguishing feature was a silver mask, with jagged black windows for eyes, and tall ears, marked with concentric rings.

Tails’ voice came faintly thought the communicator. “No…”

Sally glanced to the Cyclone. “You recognize them?”

“It’s Infinite.”

“Who?”

Blaze ignited her arms. Licks of flame rode up the sleeves of her Resistance jacket.

“He’s Eggman’s… right hand man. He’s supposed to be dead.”

“How can you tell? He’s wearing a mask.”

“He always wears a mask!” Tails’ voice cracked. “That mask! He never takes it off!”

The cloaked figure was quickly drawing closer, even as his movements suggested he was merely walking.

“He’s… he’s dangerous! He’s _very_ dangerous!”

Rosy excitedly flipped from the Cyclone. “Mmmm…. dangerous.”

Blaze lifted a hand swirling with fire. “Come no closer!”

Sally climbed out of the shuttle car to stand beside her. Her arms tingled as the nanites rearranged themselves to blades.

The figure’s advance continued. They were about fifteen yards out.

“He was warned,” Blaze muttered. She pulled in a deep breath and ground her boots into the sand as her arms traced an ornate sequence of poses. Sally felt heat building on her person, enough to make her back away – then, just as the flames had built to a painful brightness, they vanished.

“… what?”

“Hail, fellow travelers!”

_What?_ Sally looked around at her team. Blaze was staring at her own arms. Rosy shrugged. The Cyclone’s engine hummed idly. The cloaked man had nearly arrived. “What just happened?" 

"I... don't know."

Sally looked again to the cloaked man. "He doesn’t _seem_ hostile,” she muttered. "Just stay sharp."

"Hello!"

“Hello,” Sally said. “Who are you?”

Standing before her now, the thick weave of the man's purple cloak completely covered his lower body - in fact, it dragged behind him, as though it were five sizes too large. “Ah – just a humble missionary. Please. Call me Sain.”

“Missionary?” Sally repeated. "What's your faith?"

"Oh, it's... not particularly easy to explain."

"What sort of missionary can't explain his religion?" Blaze stepped forward - Sally noticed that, while the flames had gone from her arms, her claws were glimmering at the tips of her fingers. "Do you take us for fools?"

"Not all all, madam." Sain shrugged. "Perhaps 'missionary' was the wrong term. I'm not so much looking to spread my holy word as I am looking to... understand it for myself."

A few heartbeats passed.

“Why are you wearing that mask?” Tails’ voice, harsh and frayed, burst from Sally’s wrist.

“Ah – I found it here, lost in the sands. I thought it might shield my face from the sun and the storms." Sain tilted his head. "Might it be yours?”

Tails didn’t respond. Looking closer, Sally saw that the metal mask was worn and scored – compared to the right, about half of the mask’s left ‘ear’ was missing, with cracks trailing from the edge of the ceramic inlay.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit lost. I had thought to come through this great desert in continuance of my travels, but there seems to be some sort of aberration to the land… though I feel I’ve walked many miles, I often reencounter the same landmarks.”

“How many days have you been out here?”

“Mmm. A week, mayhap.”

"A week?" Blaze curled her lip. “And you haven’t been taken by the wraiths?”

“Ah – is that the name for those wretched ghosts?” Sain nodded. “I have seen them, yes. Though they seem to keep their distance from me.”

Sally squinted. _If he’s traveling alone… they might be overlooking him._ “How about others? Have you run into anyone else? Anyone looking lost or disoriented?”

“I’m afraid not. You few are the first friendly faces I’ve encountered. That might... explain my enthusiasm.” Sain shifted – at the edges of his mask, beneath the crease of his hood, there was something… _dark fur?_

“What were the landmarks you've seen?” Blaze asked.

“Primarily... unremarkable formations of rock. I take note of them now only for their familiarity. As well as that pyramid. Although…” he tilted his head. “There was one… particularly interesting place. A colossal wreck, miles across. Some type of metal ship… styled in the face of a man.”

“The Death Egg,” Tails said.

Sally turned to look at the Cyclone. “I thought Knuckles said yours was destroyed?”

“It - fell from orbit,” Tails said. “I—it’s—it could have crashed out here.”

“Yes. That is, I do emphasize it as a _wreck_ ,” Sain added. “It is ruined, and abandoned, by any account. Swarming with those black wraiths.”

Sally set a hand on her chin. _Swarming with them?_ She leaned back against the hood of the shuttle car.

Blaze glanced to her, though her eyes militantly returned to Sain. “Is it possible?”

“What do you think?” Sally responded.

“Well, you’ve traditionally been the one to dissuade me from coincidence.”

Sally nodded in acknowledgement.

“I don't mean to interrupt,” Sain said, “but might I ask to accompany you?”

Blaze squinted. “You’ve no knowledge of us. Or our destination.”

“True, though I do hope to change that. In this place… I believe traveling together would spell better odds for all parties. And, as I imagine you’ll be leaving the desert eventually…”

“Would mean another set of eyes for vigil... and it'd be nice to have a guide,” Sally mused. The twilight was running thin. She wiped her face. “Sure.”

“Ah – thank you. Miss…”

“Sally. And this is Blaze.”

Rosy excitedly waved a hand. “And I’m Rosy!”

“Welcome,” Blaze said, shaking her head.

“Okay, team. Let’s put a few miles between us and this Eggman base.” Sally hopped back into the seat of the shuttle car. “Then we’ll set up camp for the night. We should reach our destination tomorrow.”

Sain rounded the shuttle van and climbed into the passenger seat. Flames eked out from beneath Blaze’s boot soles as she lifted off. Tails swiveled the Cyclone. Sally set her foot on the gas.

“Let’s move.”

\---

“Nicole. Are you there?”

“Yes, Tails. It’s rather late. You know your vigil is over, don’t you?”

“Yeah… maybe we should just tell Sally I know, you know? So we can, uh, drop the vigils.”

"Perhaps - though she may not be comfortable informing Sain."

"Oh. Yeah. Never mind, then. About that."

"I'd still like to know why you're awake."

"Oh, I just can’t get to sleep, sorry."

“Can I help?”

“Well, I… you… you integrated with the Cyclone last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. I apologize – it proved necessary for our survival.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay. You only had to ‘cause I was… stupid. Anyway. I had a question.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Is the Cyclone… a part of you now?”

“You could interpret it that way. I can exercise control over it, the way you can exercise control over your arm or leg.”

“So, it’s… like a body to you?”

“Yes, though I don’t believe I am as ‘attached’ to it as you are to your own.”

“Hah… I wanted to ask you… well—so, you can ‘feel’, right?”

“I can receive and process any information afforded to me by a sensory input, yes. Or, if you mean emotion… I’m capable of that, also.”

“So, what does it feel like… to be… above… a body?”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. ‘Above’?”

“Like… you’re not only in that PDA, or the Cyclone, right? So…”

“I see. You mean that my operative functions aren’t particularly tethered to any one bundle of matter, as yours are.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve… struggled with that, for some time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. For many years of my life, I’ve wanted to be physical. As you or Sally are. I even modeled a number of Mobian forms for myself, long before I had the means to render it. The nanites.”

“… nanites… you mean, nanomachines?”

“Yes. They are my primary means for navigating this world. In the right environment, and afforded the right amount of power, I can even make my body real! … for a time.”

“But… why would you want that?”

“Why?”

“I… what’s so good about being physical?”

“… I don’t know. I suppose that’s what I want to discover. I don’t know what it’s like to eat, or drink. I can’t dream or feel pain. There’s an… exhausting placelessness that comes with existing as I do. I can never be just one way or another. I’m all ways, all the time.”

“Hah… hahaha.”

“Tails?”

“It’s like we’re on opposite sides of a mirror.”

“… could you explain? I didn’t follow the joke.”

“There’s no—there’s no joke. I just… can’t imagine wanting to be like this, when you have what you have. Eating and drinking, cleaning yourself, making waste. Living is gross, and it only ever goes on. Pain isn’t fun to feel. Dreams are just as often nightmares. You’re… you’re going the wrong way.”

“I’m… sorry you feel that way.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I am too, I guess. I know when I’m being stupid, I just can’t help it. I just… this past fight, it’s like I stopped being in control of myself. My body took over. There are times I can’t breathe when I know all I have to do is just help someone who needs it. Like Omega. Why did I leave him?”

“Sometimes you’re the one who needs help, Tails. That shouldn’t be a point of shame.”

“But it _is_. I can’t help it, it—you—you know, you know why I’m called ‘Tails’?”

“Yes.”

“It’s cause the West Siders made fun of me for ‘em. For my body. It… comes up and defines you. And even though—then Sonic used it in a good way, ‘cause I could fly. But I can’t fly anymore. And Sonic’s gone. So what was the point? I’m just left with the name.”

“Would you like me to call you Miles, instead?”

“No. Thanks, but… no. All I… what I want, is to be like you. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I want to be above it. I’m… I’m gonna hang up now. Sorry. I gotta stop. Sorry.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Tails... I’ll always be here, if you need me.”

\---

“We’ve arrived.”

Sally raised a hand to cover the sun. It was as Sain had described. Eggman’s crooked likeness: one eye high above, the other half-submerged in sand, its nose presumably anchoring it from sinking further. It was swathed entirely in the familiar red, crackling ether of the Mist; overhead, a cloud of wraiths had coagulated, blotting out the light of the sun. A hellscape.

Nicole's voice in her ear: “Both waveform signatures appear to converge ahead, Sally.”

Sally watched as a tangled black mass of wraiths, buoyed by their glowing red heart, crept up the side of the structure. “They’re active here, even in daytime...” She squinted as they disappeared into the upper eye. “And I think that group was carrying something.”

“A captive, most likely. It seems we’ve found their nest,” Blaze said. She shut her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “And, the Sol Emerald is near. I can feel it.”

“Sally – I have a set of, uh… plans. Blueprints. For the Death Egg.”

“Could you send them over?”

Nicole flashed a message: DOWNLOAD IN PROGRESS.

Sally drew the PDA from its holster and unfolded it on the roof of the shuttle car. The bead of glass in its center glowed to life. Rays of light spun up in the shape of a cone as a 3D model of the Death Egg was slowly printed from the bottom up. Once the whole sphere had been assembled, Nicole rotated the projection across and about its axis, and introduced a plane to simulate the ground level.

Sally studied the diagram intently. “If the wraiths are coming in and out of that left eye… that means it’s probably the fastest route to wherever their point of origin is.” She traced a finger through the projection to a huge spherical chamber about a mile deep. “Here. This spot, between the eyes. That’s where we need to go.”

“Why there?” Blaze asked.

“Ample holding space for all the bodies they’ve taken.”

“Well… that _was_ the old holding facility, um, for prisoners.”

Sally rubbed her face. “By Knuckles' estimates, they could have thousands in there.”

“What’re they doin’ with alluvem? Eatin’ em?”

“They don’t have mouths, Rosy.”

Sally took a brief drink from her canteen. “That chamber’s our best bet. But once we're inside, if the waveform readings or anything we find points us another way, we can just change direction.”

“Once inside?” Sain asked. “You can’t mean you’re venturing in? Willingly?”

“Right. We haven’t explained ourselves. Sorry, Sain.” Sally wiped her goggles back to an eyepiece. “We’re here to put an end to the wraiths, and to retrieve a powerful artifact.”

“Ah – then you are bounty hunters?”

Blaze grimaced. “No.”

“Oh.”

“We’re… loosely associated with the Resistance.”

“The Resistance? I see.” Sain looked toward the Death Egg. In place of his eyes were the impermeable black lenses of Infinite’s mask. “Then, if you are soldiers, I must admit I myself am ghastly in a fight.”

“I understand. You don’t have to come in with us.”

“Yet, it would be perilous to linger outside, would it not?”

Sally studied him. “I can’t guarantee your protection either way. But given how close we are to their source, there may be strength in numbers.”

“Yes... Still, I believe it best that I shall stay and guard your resources.”

"Sure."

Blaze glanced confusedly at her.

“Can I start smashing now?” Rosy hopped eagerly forward.

“No. Not yet, Rosy.” Sally pointed to a nearby piece of debris, presumably thrown off from the Death Egg’s impact. It was a towering steel frame, whose folded design had effectively created an artificial cave. “We’re staying here and lying low until sunset. When the wraiths go out for the night, that’s when we’ll strike.”

Tails, Rosy, and Sain brought their equipment to cover. Blaze and Sally followed on foot.

Blaze broke their silence. "I see you're trusting that stranger to guard your resources. Your water."

Sally shrugged. "It's him, or no one. We're all headed inside otherwise."

"I don't trust him."

"I can see that."

"At Arsenal Pyramid, I fully intended to fire on him. Yet my arms were extinguished before I could."

Sally glanced to her. "And you think he was responsible?"

"I'm unsure. If it _was_ my own failing... I wouldn't have faltered in my control of the Sols like that for some time." She shook her head. "Still, as the seventh draws nearer, they are growing... excitable. I can't rule out that it was a product of their wills."

Sally quirked an eyebrow.

Blaze held out her hand, summoning the six Sols. They revolved quietly over her palm, with sparks and wisps of flame trailing from their polished surfaces. “In confidence, I only recently came to the position of Guardianship - about five years ago.”

“Did you inherit it?”

“No... not exactly. The year before, I had woken up on the shore of an island with no memory of my past. I knew only my name… and that my soul was alit with flames. The islanders told me that was a sign of royalty. They took me to the royal court, and there, the Emperor of Solus admitted a history of infidelity. The consensus was that I was a bastard. The child of any one of a number of common women. I was permitted to stay in the court until I regained my memory.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Blaze stowed the Sols again. “I'm convinced now I never will. This much became apparent after six months spent with the Empire’s best doctors. Some on the court accused me of pretending, and later lying to preserve my presence there.”

“I’ve always hated court politics.”

“That, we can agree on.” Blaze sniffed. “Eventually, my father – the Emperor – agreed to legitimize me as a member of the royal family, should I take on the burden that was the Guardianship of the Sol Emeralds. It was virtually the only option that didn’t end in exile or death. So…” she pointed to the gem embedded in her forehead. “I accepted.”

“... why tell me this now? You were awfully tight-lipped about your family when I asked you a few days ago.”

“I’m slow to trust. It is both an asset and a weakness, and part of it is deliberate.” Blaze stopped walking a few yards out from their destination. “I’m telling you now because I don’t want you to mistake my, at times… stubborn dedication to my role as Guardian as a slight towards you. You have my complete and honest respect.” She offered a hand.

Sally looked at it, then made eye contact. “I appreciate it. But in there... if it comes down to saving me, or all those people, or the Sol Emerald… you’ll be saving the Sol Emerald. Correct?”

Blaze clenched her jaw. “Yes.”

Sally nodded. Then, she took Blaze’s hand and shook. “Whatever happens tonight, I can’t say I sympathize with the priorities you’ve taken on. But… I understand.”

Blaze nodded. Then the two finished their walk, settled in, and waited for nightfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this chapter... I've noticed I used to give more lore notes towards the front end, but I suppose the story is carrying itself for now. You may see more from me at the start of Part 2, but until then, I'm not sure there's much in the story I'd need to explicitly explain.
> 
> Apologies with the slight lateness. Was tough to carve out enough time to type this all up, plus there were more than a few last-minute revisions. Lots of colors...
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the weekend.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	22. The Singularity

##  22 – The Singularity

In Blaze’s palm, a miniature flame flickered. It was the only light in a world of shadow, its glow running white to the tips of her fingers, and warming to gold the further out it reached. She shut her eyes, breathing deep the still air of the dungeon. _Show me the way,_ she prayed.

When she reopened her eyes, the tip of the flame bent forward, as though it were kneeling. “It’s ahead,” she whispered.

“Good,” Sally whispered back, her face glowing green with Nicole’s light. The PDA sat propped in her palm. “That’s in line with our plans to reach the inner chamber.”

The two walked along at the lowest point of the long cylindrical corridor behind the Death Egg’s eye. All around, from the floor to the high, high ceiling, were holding cells with architecture virtually perpendicular to the gravity of Beryllia. Blaze looked down from their narrow path to see herself reflected in a cell’s sink mirror. Looking up, she saw the rooms' distant chairs and beds level with her gaze.

The atmosphere was still, but not calm. A subtle, thumping anxiety permeated everything. There were the distant moans of wraiths, and all around the ruined bodies of Eggman’s machines, frozen in the last violent seconds of their 'lives'.

Blaze slowed. “Wait.”

“Hm?” Sally raised a closed fist to stop the group.

Blaze crouched beside one of the Egg Pawns’ bodies. With her free hand, she touched its steel shell – only for it to cave and fall away into red dust, like the dried hull of a hollow sandcastle. “They’re… dissolving.”

Sally turned to the Cyclone. Nicole had modified the lining of its engine block to run more quietly, but still it emitted a reverberating hum as it rolled. “Tails, are you seeing this?”

“Yeah… it’s— I mean, so—so during the war, after Sonic destroyed the true reactor in Eggman’s fortress, almost all his forces and outposts dissolved. Sort of like that. Because they'd been projections of the Phantom Ruby.”

“The Phantom Ruby?”

“A powerful gem, from another world." 

“Dimension the Fifteenth,” Blaze specified.

"It can create planetary-scale illusions and replicas - sometimes almost identical to the real thing. But, um, like I said, after that reactor went, everything Eggman made with the Ruby faded away in just a few hours. So… I’m not sure why, or… how... that one could be taking so long?”

Blaze nudged another nearby Pawn with her boot; its body caved in at her toe, as the other had. “It isn’t just that one,” she observed. “They all seem to be that way.”

Sally allowed a moment to pass. Then: “Okay, then this Ruby could somehow be in play - but we've got to keep moving. Just stay sharp.”

They walked onwards, to a point where the ground frayed off into twisted and broken girders. _Damage from the station's fall, presumably. It's likely no deeper than..._ Blaze drew close enough to see that the gash ran quite a bit deeper than a few feet. She backed away. “That's a long drop. Tails will have to turn back.”

Sally quirked an eyebrow.

“It… um… the Cyclone can hover, Blaze.”

Blaze looked up at the mech in disbelief. “That behemoth can fly?”

“It is part airplane,” Tails muttered.

“Rosy and I will hold on as it crosses. You can go first.”

Blaze took the cue and ignited her arms and legs, quickly leaping across.

Meanwhile, Rosy climbed to sit above the cockpit; Sally gripped the handle on its side. Tails slowly shifted the mech to walker mode, and with a running start propelled it into the air. Its jet engines kicked to life, filling the hall with the sound of ignition; then it landed with a steel crash.

Blaze winced at the noise as it echoed away; but after a stretch of silence with no apparent response from the wraiths, their march continued. She whispered, “Your machines are as bombastically effective as ever, Tails.”

“Um… guys?”

Sally and Blaze turned to look at up at the Cyclone, where Rosy was still perched. She had twisted completely around.

“I don’ think… that looks right.”

Blaze leaned to look beyond Tails’ mech. Nothing.

“What do you—”

Then, she noticed it. Blaze was sure they had been walking in a straight line; but now, the glass barriers of the prison cells, glowing quietly with red light between black stretches of steel wall, appeared to have… twisted about the cylinder. They resembled the coiled striations of a conch shell as they regressed back into nothingness. The gap they had leapt over… was now beside and above them.

“Uh…”

“What is it?” Tails asked. “Should I turn around? I can't see.”

“… it's nothing,” Sally said, decisively. “Ignore it, Rosy." Sally made eye contact with Blaze and tightened her jaw. She nodded. "We’re nearly there.”

Before them, the entrance to the central chamber yawned, a black mouth at the end of a long throat. Distant smears of ruby light waited in its dark recesses.

The flame in the palm of Blaze’s hand had nearly doubled in size since they’d entered the wreck. It was curved completely over, towards the most prominent feature in the cavernous room ahead: an enormous metallic sphere.

“The Sol Emerald… is in there.”

“Blaze—" Sally said in a harsh whisper "--could you put that out? Just for a second.”

Blaze glanced to Sally, then closed her palm, eliminating the only light among their party. The darkness swallowed them.

As her eyes adjusted, Blaze distinguished something just beneath of the metal sphere. A wide chair, apparently assembled from debris, with the enormous iron spokes of what may have been a coolant fan stretching up at its back. Seated at its center was the slumped form of a Beryllian, with a glowing red gem in its chest.

“That’s… the _real_ Infinite!”

“What?” Sally’s hushed voice emanated from the dark to Blaze’s left. “How can you tell this time?”

“The gem in his chest… that’s the Phantom Ruby prototype.”

Even as Blaze’s eyes settled on the gem Tails was describing, the detail of the surrounding room began to sink in. There were thousands of wraiths, creeping along the ceiling as well as the floor. The trajectory of their haunting red gaze seemed locked down at their feet. Occasionally, they even appeared to crouch, and flicker left to right, as though… searching for something.

“Then, even this... everything… is he creating it all?”

One pair of eyes even wandered close enough to the body of Infinite that it came into the crimson light the Phantom Ruby cast over the central steel platform of the room. Its silhouette – really, all it was – was outlined in those moments as it crossed from right to left. It didn’t suit the familiar formless, inky body of the wraith. No - this one _walked_ , with legs, and held defined arms poised before it, and even had the curvature of a head and back.

“Infinite… doesn’t look conscious,” Sally observed.

Blaze looked ahead. A long, buckled access bridge spanned their entrance to the central platform - beyond that, another identical bridge stretched to an opposite entrance. _From the other eye._ Together, the two bridges suspended the circular platform at the center of the spherical room. She started to walk forward.

“Blaze, wait—”

“I can’t wait any longer,” Blaze responded. “The Sol Emerald is right there. I only—” she tripped over something on the bridge, catching herself on its railing. She turned to look back – but the dark was indistinguishable. She glided her thumb across her forefinger to strike it. A small pool of light broke over the edge of the bridge.

A hand. No, a full arm. She briefly recoiled - then leaned forward again, to look over the edge. The arm was connected to a body, lying beside the bridge, apparently propped against the slope of the floor. An adult fox, a woman, in plainclothes.

Sally walked to Blaze and reached over to touch the woman’s neck. “She’s alive,” she said. Reaching up, Sally rolled back the woman’s eyelids. Her irises were skating frantically around, never settling on any point. “Unconscious. REM sleep.” She set Nicole’s PDA on the woman’s chest.

“REM sleep?” Blaze repeated.

“Rapid Eye Movement,” Sally straightened up, looking over the room again. “It means they’re dreaming. They’re... _all_ , dreaming.”

Blaze followed her gaze. Slowly, the image and the truth grew clearer. The wraiths beneath them, periodically sinking and scanning their surroundings, weren’t _searching_ for something. They were tending to the crop of sleeping bodies that blanketed the floor. One Blaze watched held a small, red gem - and crouching beside a body, it seemed to lift a faded red mist and pack it against its palm. _It's growing a power crystal._

“Sally… this woman’s NMR readings suggest her brain is entirely shut off from all outside stimuli. EKG indicates a massively decreased metabolic rate. She’s in a state of hibernation,” Nicole said. “And… sampling the brainwaves of adjacent victims… they’re extremely similar.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they’re not just dreaming,” Tails said, his tinny voice nearly a whisper over their communicators. “They’re all dreaming… the _same_ dream. I never would have thought… that the Ruby could do something like this.”

Suddenly, Blaze was falling. She slammed against the metal paneling of the bridge.

“Blaze!”

She twisted to look down – a wraith stared back up at her. A shock of pain traced up her leg as its claws bit in. She kicked with her free foot, blasting out a wave of fire. The sensation vanished, and she dragged herself back to the center of the bridge.

“Are you—”

Blaze’s eyes were locked still on the wraith. Unlike the others they’d yet encountered, this one’s body appeared to have survived the attack largely intact. The web of flame spread across it, up from its abdomen to its arms and face.

Thrashing, it raised a wail so shrill and loud Blaze thought she might go deaf. She slammed her hands down over her ears, but still the sound went on, high up to the rounded ceiling, where it echoed back across the chamber. Thousands of red eyes twisted to look at them.

“—ove, move, move! Get to the center of the room!”

Blaze flexed her jaw as she climbed to her feet. Sally’s hand gripped her arm.

“Are you injured?”

“No!”

“Then let’s go!”

The bridge flexed beneath them as the Cyclone rolled across. Sally lunged forward, spearing a wraith with her arm-blade. She flung its weightless body over the edge. “We've got to get to Infinite!”

“And then what?” Blaze jumped and kicked down, starting a hover. Wiping her arms across each other, she started two twin streams of fire to guard either side of the bridge.

“Then we—careful with the fire!” Sally screamed. “There are people down there!”

Blaze contracted her arms slightly, easing back the heat. Her abs strained with the effort. They were halfway across the bridge – below them, the sea of bodies had fallen away, but rose again at the center platform, where Infinite reclined on his makeshift throne. A soporous king.

“Then we have to disable the Ruby! Stop the dream!”

Blaze realized that the metal sphere she had noticed earlier was… turning. Slowly revolving over a hexagonal base, from which thick black wires, like snakes, wound their way up to Infinite’s chest.

“The Sol Emerald is inside that machine!”

“That’s an Eggman-style reactor,” Tails said. “It must be powering the Ruby prototype!”

“I’ll destroy it and retrieve the Sol!”

Rosy swung her hammer like a golf club, flinging a wraith away. “And I can smashy-smash the Ruby-Ruby!”

“No!” Sally shouted, as they arrived at the center. “If we destroy anything, there’s no telling what’ll happen to the people inside! They could die, or have their minds scrambled!”

Blaze landed beside her. Her arm raised, she resisted every urge to blow open the reactor shell now. “Then what do you propose?!”

Sally set Nicole’s PDA on the arm of Infinite’s chair. Her nanite wires trickled out, up towards the broad, triangular gem embedded in his chest. “Let Nicole work at this,” she said. “We’ll just have to hold out while she figures out how to safely disable the prototype! Tails, covering fire! Rosy, start smashing!”

“You’re risking this mission on the premise of tech support?!”

Sally stepped in front of Blaze. “If destroying the reactor is the wrong call, the cost of life would be immense!”

“Nothing compared to if the Sols are left in the hands of these monsters!”

“There’s no time to argue!” Sally slashed at a wraith clawing up at her feet, severing its inky hand and head.

Beside them, Tails had shifted the Cyclone to mech form, and was firing out at the approaching wraiths. “Sally, I can't lower my cannon any more or I’ll hit the people below!”

“That’s okay Tails, just give us covering fire above the level!”

Blaze cast a wave of fire out, destroying three or four wraiths as they clambered up to the platform. The assault was endless. The wraiths struck once, then again - only growing stronger and more invasive on the second attempt.

“AAaaaaaaaAAA!” The floor beneath them rocked as Rosy slammed her hammer down repeatedly at the edge.

“What’s the machine’s progress?!”

“Nicole?! Come in!” Sally turned and ran to the throne, sliding into a crouch. The PDA was perched where it had been before—but its screen had gone dark. “Nicole!”

“Don’t tell the machine is dead!”

Something caught Sally’s eye. Almost invisible, caught in the shadow of the chair… a red and white shoe. A golden buckle. She crept forward to look.

There he was. Blue quills and tan fur matted with dirt and dust. Torn gloves and socks. He looked like he’d just walked out of a plane crash; but his face was propped in a wide, ridiculous, dreamy grin. Sonic.

“Sally, tell me what’s happening before I blow open this reactor and rip out the Emerald for myself!”

Sally swallowed, rising to her feet. “Nicole's unresponsive. She may have been pulled in.”

“What?!” Blaze turned and lashed her arm to throw a ball of fire at a wraith that had grabbed Rosy. “Then your plan has failed! Now what?”

“Now, I found something else – Sonic is here.”

“What? Where?” The Cylone’s machine gun stopped. With its lull, a clump of wraiths surged up from below, smothering the Cyclone.

“Just keep firing, Tails!”

The machine gun whirred back to life, blowing away a premature wraith crystal with a loud _crack_. The pack of them swarming the Cyclone's cockpit evaporated.

“I've got a new plan,” Sally said, breathlessly. “Sonic’s caught in the dream with the others. We’ll send someone in, convince him to wake up! Maybe that’ll break the Ruby’s control!”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Blaze screamed. “We’ve come this far, and now you _want_ us to be taken?!”

“Not all of us,” Sally said, stomping at a wraith crawling towards her. “Just one. The rest will stay here and stand by to pull the Emerald as a failsafe!”

Blaze shook her head, kicking out another wave of flames. She turned to face Sally. Her fiery golden eyes met Sally’s stoic, calm sky blue. “Who’s going, then?”

Sally nodded. “I will.”

With this, she stepped back, then ran forward, hurling herself into the writhing mass of smoke and red eyes below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking the plunge.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	23. Perfect Storm

##  23 – Perfect Storm

The world was spinning. Which way was up? Opening your eyes only stung them with saltwater. Sound bites flashed through. Someone’s voice? Or just the crash of the waves?

Something slammed into Sonic’s side. The air flew from his lungs. His arms searched spastically for anything to hold onto – and finding a wall, Sonic pushed away.

His head surfaced. He drew in a desperate gasp when another wave beat him over the head. Again, he pushed himself up. It seemed he was upright, now. He rubbed at his eyes until they stopped burning. He blinked the tears away.

He was standing on a portion of destroyed highway… _Somewhere new? No, wait._ As his vision grew clearer, he distinguished the colored shapes of the jackal and Mina. _Same place as before._

“Hey!” he called.

Mina whirled around. “Oh, thank god. Sonic!”

Sonic waded towards them. The pink water was up to his thighs. As he drew closer, he noticed something between his two friends. A female lynx, black and brown fur, in a drenched purple dress. She was coughing up water.

“Who’s that?”

“No idea. She came up out of the water a minute ago, when the highway fell.”

The lynx finished coughing, and catching her breath, looked up. “… Sonic?!” She turned to look beside her. “Mina?”

“… wait, Nicole? How are—how is—what?!”

“Uh, what’s—”

Sonic felt something on his shin. He shifted his feet, expecting it to be a piece of debris; then, it tightened its grip. He looked down to see the shape of another person beneath the water. He crouched and grabbed their arm, pulling them up.

A female chipmunk emerged, wearing a blue jacket and black clothes. A sheet of wet red hair covered her face. Between heavy breaths, with a threatening tone, she managed: “Do you… have any idea… how hard you are to find?”

“Princess Sally?!”

“Oh, this is Sally?”

“Are—are you real?”

Sally raked her hair from her face, leaning on Sonic's shoulder for support. “Yes. I’m real. So are all of you. It’s this world that’s fake. You’re all trapped in a virtual reality.”

“We know,” said the jackal.

Sally blinked. A few heartbeats of silence passed. “Then, why aren’t you waking up?”

“We’re afforded no control over this medium… Princess. We’ve been trying to escape ever since we realized our situation.”

“And I was saying, Mina and I could probably get out with a Double Boost. I’ve done it before. But that would strand everyone else here.”

“I see. Okay." Sally pinched her eyes shut. "Then, let’s think of another--wait. You know who Mina is?”

“She’s filled me in.”

A thundering roar split the air.

“What was that?”

“Chaos,” Sonic said. “But, not the one I know.”

“I didn’t see him asleep, back in the real world.”

“Then he is a mirage,” the jackal said.

Sally squinted. "Do I know you? Are you wolf pack?"

The jackal shook his head.

“Okay." Sonic clapped. "Then, this is some nightmare virtual reality version of Chaos. Either way, he’s gotten all the Chaos Emeralds and reached his final form.”

“And this looks like Station Square, too,” Sally said. “We’re reliving someone’s memories. It could be yours, mine…”

“Wait, you've fought this thing before, Princess?”

“Well, Sonic fought him. We... mostly watched.”

“How'd I beat him then?”

“A spirit named Tikal stripped him of the Emeralds and gave them to you, so you could harness their positive energy.”

“Okay, that's pretty much what happened here. Only, Tikal’s MIA. So—”

Sonic looked down to see small waves rolling past – he followed their movement with his eyes to the end of the road a quarter mile away, where the serpentine head of Perfect Chaos burst from the water and stretched up, until it towered over the broken skyscrapers.

“—we’re gonna need a Plan B.”

“Oh!” Mina slapped his arm. “You can jump into him and use the Emeralds from inside, like in Ice Cap!”

 Sonic shrugged. “ _If_ they’re in there, maybe. But I can’t even break through Chaos’ skin-level-water-situation without a ton of… speed.” He turned to look at Mina.

“What?” Mina stared back at him. “Oh, no. You’re not—”

“Uh huh.”

“Ughhh,” Mina groaned into a mock sob. “Why. Why me.”

Chaos roared, and from its parted jaw a highly pressurized jet of water rushed, splitting open several pieces of concrete debris as it arced up towards them. It came down on the edge of their stretch of highway, shoving it backwards until it smashed into the side of an already partially toppled building.

“Okay, that’s the plan!” Sally pointed to the distant water demon. “You two get in there!” She looked up at the building beside them. “The rest of us will get to higher ground!”

“Roger that!” Sonic flashed a thumbs up and linked arms with Mina. “Ready?”

Mina bobbed her head. “Okay... Okay. Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s do it. Let’s do it!”

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! We need some space to hit top speed, so we’re headed that way around the block. You follow?”

“Yes.”

“Then, on go. Ready… go!”

Sonic and Mina whirled their legs in place a moment, casting a tall spray of pink water behind them as they churned it underfoot. Then, having built enough traction, they hydroplaned away in a spliced blue and violet streak.

\---

Blaze stomped, casting a cone of flame out over the platform. It caught the frontmost line of advancing wraiths, melting them to puddles of black ichor. She glanced behind to Rosy’s side - they were losing ground.

“Blaze! Look up!”

Blaze flicked her head back. From the upper entrance, sludgy black masses were dropping into the cavern of the inner chamber. Each one glowed with a red yolk. The crystals.

“They’re calling back the patrols!”

Blaze looked down in time to see a row of red eyes setting in on her. Impulsively, she waved her arm to throw out another pulse of fire; the wraiths were rebuffed, but the flame went on to melt part of Infinite’s chair beside her. She was losing her focus. _At this rate, I can’t last much longer. I’ll injure someone, or get eaten alive… curse Sally’s sympathy._

She spun around. “Rosy, get on the Cyclone!”

Rosy slammed her hammer down, rocking the platform beneath them. A series of profound dents now warped its edge. She turned and lifted a hand to her ear. “What?!”

“Get on the Cyclone!” Blaze pointed.

Obeying, Rosy drove her hammer down again to vault herself up to the top of Tails’ machine. Blaze kicked off from the ground, watching as the platform was swallowed in seconds. Blaze thought, for the last moment, she saw something… a wraith in the shape of Sally, looking back up at her.

But the crystals were seven and counting – merely three had nearly overwhelmed Resistance HQ defenses. She had to destroy as many as she could before their wraiths could multiply. She set her eyes on the nearest one and drove down her fists, blowing a jet engine of fire behind her.

\---

“Ah!”

“Nicole! Are you okay?”

With no response, Sally turned to look behind her. She, Nicole, and the jackal had halfway scaled the sloped side of the fallen building – just two dozen yards below them, the pink water foamed white with its raging currents. It had started to rain.

Nicole was looking at her hand, her eyes wide and mouth ajar.

“What is it?” Sally asked. She looked to the jackal. “What happened to her?”

The jackal turned to look beside him. “She’s cut her hand. Likely on the glass,” he called back. He reached over and grabbed her wrist. “None in the wound.”

Nicole looked up. “Sally, I’m bleeding.”

“It’s just a simulation, Nicole. You'll be okay.”

“… I know,” Nicole said, “but I’m _bleeding._ It… it hurts!”

\---

“Mina!”

“What!”

“I need you to try something!”

“Wha—now?!”

“Watch this!”

Sonic pointed his eyes down, to his own legs. He could do it without looking, of course, this was just for demonstration. For a fraction of a second, he stopped the rotation of his legs, then switched up his form to spin them in the shape of twin mobius strips.

“This is the Figure-Eight Peel-Out! Try it!”

“ _What!_ Are you kidding me! I—”

“Just try it! We’re gonna need the speed!”

Mina looked down at her own legs. Falteringly, she slowed her pace. Sonic held tight to her arm to keep her upright as her shoe soles skimmed over the surface of the rapids. For a moment she froze up, staring down in terror at the rollicking water. Then she tried one cycle, catching her ankle on a piece of debris.

“Augh!”

She tripped, falling forward – Sonic strained, using every ounce of strength in his abs to keep her up. “Okay, it’s okay if you can’t! I can think of something—”

“No!” Mina screamed. “I can do this!”

Righting herself, Mina hesitated another moment – then spun her legs just as Sonic was, forming twin infinities with her green and purple boots. She erupted into exhilarated laughter.

“Yes! I--I did it! I’m doing it!”

“Niiiiice!”

They rounded the corner to the last block on the way to Chaos’ towering form.

“Ready?”

“Yeah!”

“Double… Boost!”

\---

“AAAAAAA—”

Blaze killed her flames, tucking in her limbs to form a long acrobatic flip in the air – then straightened out as her boots impacted the fourth of the red crystals. Dislodged from its pack of wraiths, it hurtled towards Rosy, who had taken to a perpetual spin atop the Cyclone. The crystal shattered, casting glittering ruby shards over the hall of slumbering bodies.

“—AAAAAAA—”

Blaze guarded her face as she passed through the cloud of wraiths, yowling as a set of claws raked over her forearms. She reignited her boot soles as she emerged on the other side.

“Tails, is there any method to gauge Sally’s progress? A scan, a meter, anything?!”

“No, we just have—have to hope she does it!”

“—AAAAAAA!”

\---

“Jump, I’ll catch you!”

Nicole jumped from the building they had scaled to an adjacent, upright rooftop. _She’s coming up short._ With both arms out, Sally rushed forward and dropped into a slide to catch the lynx - just at the edge. Sally quickly propped her head to keep it from snapping back.

“There - you’re safe! I’ve got you.”

Nicole clutched Sally’s jacket, digging in her claws. She looked up to make eye contact with Sally. “What… what happens if I die here?”

Sally blinked. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not gonna happen. I won’t let it.”

“Princess!”

Sally turned. The jackal was pointing his sword toward the distant figure of Perfect Chaos. “They’ve pierced the body.”

Sally gently gripped Nicole’s wrists to relax her hold, then stood and walked over. She squinted to peer into Chaos’ body, but it suddenly reared back its head in a pained roar. A forest of tentacles rose from the vortex beneath it, spinning about its neck, colliding with the buildings as they went. In the following moments, its movement grew more violent, until…

From its gaping jaws, a ball of light emerged, soaring into the sky. In an instant, he was beside them – Super Sonic. His quills were golden and glimmering, vibrating, standing up from his back to his head. In his arms was the unconscious form of Mina, water still pouring from her limbs and hair. Soundlessly he touched down beside them, handing Mina to Sally and the jackal. He looked between them – his crimson eyes set with the intensity of a judgmental god.

 **“Take care of her,”** he commanded.

Sally nodded. “Do you think you can take him, now?”

Super Sonic swiveled to watch as Perfect Chaos dissolved into the currents, then reemerged several blocks down with another violent roar. **“It was a tough fight, when I was a kid,”** he said. **“Now? …”**

**“… twenty seconds.”**

With that, he winked out of existence, reappearing instantaneously in the distance.

The jackal lowered Mina to the ground. “She’s breathing,” he said.

“… ha. Haha.”

Sally turned to Nicole. “What is it?”

Nicole looked back at her, green eyes wide. Her hand still clutched the wrist above her gashed hand. “He said, twenty seconds… but... I can’t set a timer.”

\---

“AAAAaaausfhgfh—”

“Blaze! Help!”

Blaze stabilized her flight with her hands and looked down. The Cyclone—no, the entire central platform had been entirely eclipsed by the twisted black bodies of wraiths. Not even Infinite nor his chair was visible any longer. Blaze dropped lower, then sliced her arm, throwing a horizontal band of fire over the Cyclone. The wraiths hissed and crackled, receding – but only the spiderwebbed glass and scored steel of Tails’ mech remained.

“We’ve lost the hedgehog!”

“… okay,” Tails’ voice had abruptly gone still and calm. “Blaze, I’m almost out of ammo, and the Cyclone is damaged. I don’t have much longer.”

“Don’t speak nonsense, Tails. I can—”

“No. Look…” Rapidly the wraiths swarmed around the Cyclone again. “All I’m asking… is, whatever you do, _don’t_ touch the Sol Emerald, or the Phantom Ruby. Whatever you do.” The sound of crackling glass came in over Blaze’s communicator as the mech vanished into the dark. “Sonic is in there. We know that now. If cutting the power does--if it does something to them—we can’t take that risk. We just can’t. And if you do… I’m never gonna forgive you. Sorry.”

With that, Tails’ communicator fizzled out, and Blaze was hovering alone in the twisting, moaning dark.

\---

Super Sonic wove through Chaos’ body like a sewing needle. Its translucent pink body was burgeoning with light – a light so severe and powerful it threatened to rip the beast apart. Fragmented stretches of black bone and clumps of tangled black nerves flew from its neck as Super Sonic stripped it of everything – even that fundamental structure.

Withering under the assault, Chaos reared its serpentine head in a last indignant roar. The rain intensified to a tempest, and even on their distant rooftop, Sally’s party were nearly blown off their feet. The jackal crouched over Mina’s still body to shield her.

Then, a pulse of blinding white light flashed over them, and the deafening percussion of the rain ceased. Above, the gray rotunda of storm clouds cracked open, falling away to reveal a pure blue sky. In seconds, the world had become rich with a quiet peace, like the calm that might beset a wasteland in the aftermath of a nuclear blast.

Super Sonic appeared above them, holding the black brain of Chaos by its stem, his eyes closed. He touched down beside the others as his brilliant golden sheen faded – first at his ankles, then up the length of his body to the tips of his quills. The stoic crease of his mouth faded, and when he opened his eyes, his lips parted in an enormous grin.

“D’ja see that?” he asked, pointing with his free hand to the site of the battle. “Poor guy never stood a chance! Not so tough now, are ya?” He dropped the brain to the floor and kicked it away – then zipped over to receive it and pass it back. He repeated this a few times.

Mina coughed up water as she started awake. Her newly opened eyes jumped frantically from point to point - before settling on Sonic’s grisly soccer routine. She grimaced. “That’s… really gross,” she managed.

“Don’t knock it till you try… huh?”

On Sonic’s next return pass, the brain disintegrated over his shoe into a shower of red glitter. The rooftop rippled beneath them as the scenery of the city peeled away.

\---

Blaze whirled in the air, steams of fire flowing from her every limb like vibrant red-orange ribbons. This was it. She had reached the end. There were thousands of red eyes roiling above and below her, tied to bodies that cascaded down like spilled ink.

Her mind raced. _Sonic would have been trapped in that unseen ‘dream’ for months – yet he was unable to accomplish anything in the way of liberation? How could Sally or Tails achieve what he couldn’t in there in a fraction of that time?_

Another set of claws met her lower back, digging in close to the spine. She flexed her arms to briefly encase her body in flame, throwing it off. She shut her eyes, reaching out for the Sol Emerald; it was her only reference point now to how far she was from running into the wall. Feeling it was too far, she adjusted course to pull closer when the flames beneath her left leg sputtered out. She kicked down harder, starting them again.

 _The injuries are adding up. I can’t last like this. They’ll overwhelm me._ Her heart thudded in her ears. _What if there is no dream on the other side? No enrapturing paradise, no agonizing torture; just an endless, senseless purgatory, and all these heroes are already gone? What good, then, am I doing the multiverse playing pincushion to these ghouls?_

She reopened her eyes, settling them on the reflective steel sphere encasing the Sol Emerald. It and Infinite’s throne of garbage were the last remaining landmarks of the room. The only visible features beside them were the dozen-odd wraith crystals swirling around.

She grit her teeth. _We don’t even know that dismantling the Ruby could kill them. I have to do it. I can’t wait for the truth. I have to act…_

A few heartbeats longer, as she orbited the center. Then, she put out an arm and blasted towards it, impacting the reactor hard enough to jar open its top hemisphere. An electric red current pulsed out and over the wraiths, all of them momentarily going silent.

There it was. The yellow Sol, set to a steel frame, with nodes plastered across its glowing, polished surface. Its warm yellow light beckoned to her. She reached through the jaws of the reactor. She need only touch it to activate Sol Control.

The whispers around her crescendoed to a unanimous wail. She reached forward.

_“If you do… I’m never gonna forgive you.”_

Her hand flinched back. Something sharp struck her in the neck, and she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written Part 1 to a point I feel comfortable stopping - chapter 27. Thus there will be four more chapters, then likely a hiatus either right after, or a few chapters into Part 2 as I focus on other projects. Then again, Part 2 is probably my favorite part of this book, so I might just end up writing it for stress relief.
> 
> I've always believed Super Sonic should have completely different mannerisms to his traditional self - he should be stoic, deistic, and ruthless. The wisecracking Super Sonic of Unleashed never sat well with me, but then again, neither did most of the contents of that game.  
>    
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	24. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains violence some might consider graphic. Proceed with caution.

##  24 – Revelations

Blaze opened her eyes. A blue sky.

She looked down at her body, which was half-buried in sand. She sat up, brushing a handful off of herself to reveal her traditional tyrian purple coat. “Wha…”

She looked up: before her was the huge, familiar shape of Arsenal Pyramid. She stood. _I’m… back here? How?_

“Blaze!”

Blaze turned to see the distant figure of Sally waving her hand. There was a group beside her. _Right,_ she thought. _This is a dream. How did--_

A deep tremor of emotion passed through her as she replayed her last moments in her mind. _Did I make the right decision? Did I even consciously decide?_ She shook her head and started walking.

Drawing nearer, she saw that Sally was only one of a small party in the shadow of a pillar of rock. Beside her was what looked like the AI’s digital self, as she had seen it a few days ago, holding on to Sally’s hand. There was also a mongoose girl Blaze didn’t recognize, and…

“Sonic the Hedgehog.”

“Yo, Blaze." Sonic shot a finger gun. "What’s poppin’? The usual Sol blues?”

Blaze blinked.

“Soul blues?” Mina looked between them. “Like, the genre?”

“Nah, sole blues, like shoe problems.” Sonic said, decisively. “Trollin’ the desert in heels has gotta hurt. You should invest in somethin’ more ergonomic. Sneakers, flats, y’know. Scholl’s.”

Blaze stared at him a moment before turning to Sally. “I couldn’t hold them off.”

Sally nodded. “That’s okay. We'll figure everything out.”

Blaze looked to Nicole. “I see the Phantom Ruby recognized you. Even your self-image.”

Nicole looked down. “Yes.”

“Yet, I don’t see Tails or Rosy.”

“Yeah. Looks like we lost the Ultimate Mercenary, too.”

Sally turned to him. “What did you just say?”

Sonic put a thumb over his shoulder. “That jackal you met back in Station Square? Been traveling with us a while. Calls himself the Ultimate Mercenary.”

Sally squinted, as though trying desperately to remember something.

A crowd of jackals blipped into existence around them.

Mina recoiled from one near her. “Whoa!”

Sally stretched out a hand, passing it clear through a female jackal. Glittering red particles like miniature cubes fluttered from her hand. “They’re illusions,” she said.

“Hey, there he is!”

Blaze looked up. Atop the rock whose shadow they’d been standing in, a jackal with mismatched gold and blue eyes and a red blade at his hip looked down.

“Hey Merceno! Get down from there! We need your brains!”

The jackal’s eyes continued to scan the crowd.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!”

"Whoever that is, he can't hear you, Sonic."

“Squad leader!” the female jackal by Sally shouted. “Your orders!”

The Ultimate Mercenary drew his sword. “Jackal Squad!” he shouted. “Move in for the kill. All of that Eggman technology will yield us a hefty bounty in Beryllia City. We will take what is ours! Such is our right!”

He lifted his sword overhead, and the whole of the jackal crowd around them responded in a raucous cheer, some lifting their own weapons, others shouting or stomping.

“Attack!” the leader cried, dropping to the ground.

The jackals rushed from below the pillar towards the imminent silhouette of the pyramid.

Standing still, the jackal watched his troop advance. Sonic leaned over to wave a hand in front of his eyes, then zipped to the other side and poked his cheek. “It’s like he’s sleepwalking,” he diagnosed.

“Finally,” the jackal said, “the opportunity has come. Eggman has never been weaker. I’ll rid the world of him… and his disgusting machines. No one will have to live in terror and despair, or drink themselves to death on false hope. We’ll go back to the way things ought to be… For you, Ma.”

The jackal started to advance. At first with even steps, then a jog – then an outright sprint. Yet even as his body moved, he stayed in place.

“Um…” Mina looked back to the rock pillar, which was rapidly moving away. She looked back. Arsenal Pyramid was coming towards them. “Is anyone else…?”

“This world… is now operating relative to his experience,” Blaze said.

The jackal quickly surpassed his troops, even given their head start. Eggman’s forces had mobilized from within the pyramid, and as he arrived at them the jackal effortlessly cut down several Egg Pawns. Eggman himself came into view.

“There! He’s trying to escape!”

“After him!”

“Get him, Squad Leader!”

The jackal closed in on the Egg Mobile, cutting through a dozen more Pawns on the way. As he drew nearer, Eggman threw increasingly frequent panicked looks behind him.

“No!” he screamed. “Get away! Get away, I say!”

The jackal leapt into the air, and with a flip, brought his sword down over the tyrant’s head. Eggman desperately threw up his hands to shield himself – “Not the face!” – and one clutched a glowing black-and-crimson gem.

The two met.

A brilliant sound of ringing crystal pealed out from the jackal’s blade. The desert appeared to blur, as if it were rushing past at blinding speed – then the seven of them were in a ruined city, at sunset.

“… where are we now?” Mina asked.

“My vision… of the perfect world,” the jackal answered, dropping from the Egg Mobile. Eggman’s suspended figure hovered behind him.

“Oh, _now_ you can hear us?”

“Apparently.” The jackal looked down at his sword. “I’m as much a passenger here as you. I’ve no control – and no memories of these events, until I relive them. From the moment I met you, that attack in the desert was the last thing I recalled.”

“Then how would you know this is your ‘vision of a perfect world’?” Sally asked. “That is what you called it, right?”

“Yes. The knowledge is slowly returning to me.”

“Yeah… not sure I’d call this ‘perfect’,” Sonic said, kicking a chunk of curb towards the ancient wreck of a car. “If you’re accepting constructive criticism? It’s kinda like, hot trash.”

"Everything is so... dead."

“But look around.” The jackal gestured to the empty streets. “No Eggmen, no villains propagating their suffering. No contracts, no societies gorging themselves on murder and theft. I always hated that part of my life, but I never thought it could change.”

“Those things can be countered without razing everything to the ground,” Sally said, crossing her arms. “Those are _good_ goals. You can fight for them in a good way. Why would an empty world be your solution?”

“Word.”

“Because,” Blaze said, her head tilted back, her gaze set on the crimson sky. “He doesn’t want to eliminate the evil in this world alone. He also wants to eliminate the good.”

“Exactly right.”

Sally turned to Blaze. “Where are you getting that?”

“From earlier. You heard him. He wants to destroy despair and hope all the same…”

“… because one cannot exist without the other,” the jackal said. “Only at the premise of despair do we feel hope, and only when we have hope do we feel despair. A mother hopes for her newborn because she’s fearful of all the ways it can suffer… a man that has abandoned all hope never fears the future, because he has nothing to lose.”

“Uh, okay. Cool lecture.” Sonic tapped his foot. “But buddy, could you speed this up? We’re a captive audience, here.”

"Again... I have no control here." Looking past the jackal, Nicole noticed that Eggman's head was turning, slowly, the muscles in his jaw relaxing.

“I understand what you want,” Blaze said. “But why do you want it?”

“So that no one has to suffer, as I have; suffering under the rule of tyrants, strung along on the empty promises of heroes.”

“Pff, gimme a break.” Sonic rolled his eyes. “When it comes to makin’ people suffer, if you think Eggy here and me are on the level, you’re trippin'.”

“… but... he kind of has a point, Sonic.”

Sonic twisted to look at Mina. Sally followed the motion, squinting. “What? You agree with him?”

“No,” Mina said. “But I can sort of see where he’s coming from. I… think about it, Sonic. How many times have you beaten Eggman, broken all his robots, got him in a place where you could actually, you know, _end_ things, and then just… don’t? You just let him go.”

Sonic squinted. “What, you want me to _kill_ him?”

“Look, I—” Mina shook her head. “I know you’ll tell me it’s wrong. I know. I think it is wrong. Killing somebody. It’s wrong. I don’t—I mean, I get messed up just taking _stuff_ that doesn’t belong to me, let alone someone’s life!" She looked away. "But I… a lot of people… a _lot_ of people have been hurt by people you’ve spared, Sonic. His mom. My mom too, but she came back…”

“And who got her back?” Sonic pointed. “Was it me? You? Who was it?”

Mina blinked. “It was you.”

“Yeah. See?” Sonic shrugged.

“That’s not—”

“No, I know that wasn’t _me_ me – I’m not tryna take credit for it. What I’m sayin’ is, I wouldn’t keep at what I do if I didn’t think I could save everyone, every time!”

“But you _don’t_! You _don’t_ save everyone!” Mina pointed to the jackal. “People get hurt, Sonic! And they get hurt because you don’t do what you should!”

“Kill him. You want me to kill someone.”

“Think realistically!”

“You can’t expect me to kill someone. You don’t get to put that on me!”

“Then let me do it next time! I’ll do it!” Mina’s voice cracked.

Nicole flinched. Sonic stared back silently, his lips pursed as though he’d tasted something sour. Beside him, Sally set her jaw. Blaze watched on.

“The girl is right,” the jackal said. “She’s willing to make the difficult calls. Heroes like you, Sonic, merely subject us to the same endless cycle. All for your own vainglory. All to excuse your own weakness.”

“The ruler and the hero,” Sally muttered.

Beside her, Blaze nodded solemnly.

"Let's try this." The jackal swiftly turned and leapt into the air. Eerily, Eggman's facial expression had changed to a grin of pure glee - though his hands were still raised, suspended in his moment of self-defense. The jackal set his sword against the Ruby, and the sound like the crystal ringing played in reverse as the world slid back to the Badlands.

Eggman shoved the jackal off of his craft. “Now _you_ ,” he drawled, “are one interesting fellow. Something you should know about this gem: it shows the holder only the deepest, most desperate desire of their heart. Now, I’ve just seen yours. And you… you want nothing more than to crush this whole world beneath your heel, is that right?”

Additional ranks of Egg Pawns appeared from nowhere, gilded with Red Mist. His troops suddenly surrounded the now-far-outnumbered jackal squad. Gradually, individual soldiers lowered themselves to their knees, holding their weapons out on their palms. Sonic recognized it as the position the jackal first took when he was freed from the capsule in Emerald Coast.

Eggman stroked his moustache. “Ah, yes. Your people have an interesting culture, don’t they? I heard that if I spare you all now as you are, you’ll owe me an equivalent service.”

Below him, the jackal crouched, covering part of his face. “… yes.”

“Then, in exchange for your lives, I demand lifelong servitude!”

“… no.”

“No?” Eggman quirked an eyebrow.

“They may submit to you on the grounds of their life debts. But I will not.” The jackal rose to his feet. “The code is dead to me. It’s finished. But, Doctor Eggman… I will accept an offer of _partnership_. I will _help_ you to conquer the world. And when that is good and done, and I have used you for all you are worth, I will tear your empire to pieces with my bare hands.”

“Ho ho ho! Now _that…_ sounds deliciously entertaining!” Eggman glanced to the Ruby glowing brightly in his palm. “The Ruby even has a certain affinity for you, as though it were reacting to your very will... yes... there's progress to be made here.” Eggman stood, setting one foot on the edge of his Egg Mobile, and opened his arms. “Jackal Squad! Welcome to the Eggman Empire! I have _great_ plans in store…”

All the world, save the six dreaming individuals, appeared to rubberize and distend around them, changing color and shape in fluid motion.

“You agreed to work with him?” Mina watched the jackal as he walked past them. “He _killed_ your mother.”

“Did he?” The jackal tilted his head. “Was the Doctor really any more culpable for my mother's murder than the man who, time and time again, let the murderer go free?”

“Dude, shut up.” Sonic crossed his arms. “You see, Mina? How fast you go nuts when you start thinking you know better than everyone else? With these freakshows, it never stops.” He shook his head. “Sheesh. I thought you were better than this, man.”

“Someone like you, Sonic… someone content with the world as polarized as it is, could never understand. What I did, I did for the realization of a perfect dream.”

The beige of the desert sands slurred to a drab green. The sky overhead closed in a rich canopy. The air was shocked with humidity. They were in a rainforest. Huge roots, several feet in diameter, framed a mossy alcove.

The jackal walked toward a bolted steel door framing a familiar silhouette.

“Shadow?”

Shadow turned. His crimson eyes landed on the approaching jackal – then, he leaned to look behind him, as if he were expecting more. “ _You’re_ the Doctor’s backup?”

The jackal drew his sword.

“Your friends weren’t much of a challenge…” Shadow’s cool voice continued as he adjusted his cuffs. “Moreover, it’s _strange_ to see so many organics guard one of his facilities. Don’t you know he wants to do to you? Put you all in boxes… above ground, or below.”

“I have my reasons.”

“I’m sure you do.”

With that, the jackal charged, sword raised. Shadow watched him, unmoving even as the jackal raced nearer. Then, he flicked his hand to reveal the green Chaos Emerald. He vanished.

The jackal swung through air. Shadow reappeared behind him, kicking him in the back. The jackal yelled as Shadow's jet boots spit scorching flame across his fur. He fell forward. Shadow then jumped on his toppled body, gripped the jackal’s sword arm, and pulled back as he pressed his knee into the jackal’s shoulder. A grisly sound escaped as he dislocated the jackal’s arm.

"Augh!"

Mina and Nicole looked away. Sally looked to Sonic, who grimaced. Blaze watched on.

The jackal’s sword clattered to the ground. When Shadow intentionally let him up, the jackal scrambled towards it and grabbed it in his uninjured arm. He turned to face his opponent again, lunging forward. In response, Shadow held out the open palm of his free hand, and a crackling bolt of yellow energy, shaped like a knife, burst into existence. He seamlessly dodged the stroke of the jackal’s sword and stabbed the energy bolt into the blue ring of his right eye.

"AUGH! AUGHH!"

Sally and Sonic winced. Mina and Nicole cowered further. Blaze watched on.

The screaming jackal, now partially blinded, collapsed to the ground and dropped his sword again. Shadow kicked him aside, forcefully enough for him to roll twice over. He then crouched to pick up the blade, and with a smooth motion, broke it over his knee with a pulse of yellow energy. Its shards scattered to the ground.

Shadow dusted his hands. Then, with a deep breath, he set one inhibitor cuff against the other, then dragged his right wrist across his chest as if drawing a bow. “Chaos…” A small sphere of warped light whirled into existence in his right hand. He quickly set his opposite hand over it, then drew his palms apart, growing the vortex’s size. When it was roughly two feet across, he hurled it at the bolted door. “… Rift!” Instantly, the spherical vortex ate its way through its target with the sound of grinding metal. A moment later, a clear hole remained.

Shadow walked to the newly-made entrance. “You’re weak. Your Defense Squad was worthless, as well,” he said, passing the jackal’s crumpled form. “I'll let you live, this time. But, let that scar be a warning. Don’t ever show your pathetic face around me again.”

“Weak… weak… no… I’m not weak. I'm not weak.” The jackal desperately tried to claw his way to his feet, a hand covering his bloodied eye, even as the world was shifting around him. They were in the sterile, tiled confines of a laboratory. “I’m not weak! I’ll realize my dream!” he screamed. “I’m not weak! – aaaaaAAAA—”

A tube of glass rose up around him, quickly bubbling full of pink liquid. Black wires spun down from the ceiling to tangle him, attaching themselves to his head and limbs. A cavity opened in his chest – and a robotic arm came to it, pinching a triangular black-and-red jewel.

“So… that’s who you are.”

Another arm produced a silver mask. It closed in around the jackal’s face, and as the gem was set in his chest; his single gold iris shone through its glassy black eye panels.

“I really didn’t want to believe it…”

“Yes! That’s the ticket!” Eggman’s voice echoed overhead through a loudspeaker. “The prototype is taking wonderfully to you as a host. Now, you’ll be more powerful than ever, er—you know, it’s getting tiresome calling you ‘Squad Leader.’ Especially now that your squad is gone.”

“Yes… it’s only fitting I take a new name. I will build you up, Doctor Eggman, to the greatest heights your Empire has ever known. Then I will tear it apart, as I’ve promised. Only the desert will remain. It will stretch on… to infinity. My work will be…”

“But… you’re…”

“Infinite.”

Sonic’s hands flew to his throat. No sooner had he finished the word than a sudden sensation of drowning overcame him. He looked down to see _himself_ submerged in a tube of pink water, with black wires tying him in place – as though he and Infinite had switched places.

He reached out to press a hand against the glass. Past his fingers, he saw Infinite floating there, now looking in, and behind him, tubes that had risen to contain the other four spectators: Nicole, Sally, Blaze, Mina. Unlike Sonic’s, their tanks were not already filled – though their water levels were quickly rising.

“Sally!”

“Nicole!”

Blaze clenched her fists, her tube erupting into a column of flame; but still, the glass held, and the water only crept higher on her legs.

“I have to thank you, Princess Sally. I can sense that you’ve brought items of immense power to my damaged body.”

“Sally, he means the Sol Emeralds!”

“The agents of my subconscious will use them to heal me. Then, I can recommence my conquest, and return this world to its natural, apolar state.”

“Agents of your subconscious… the wraiths?”

“Yes. It appears they’ve been acting on my behalf up above, harvesting artifacts and individuals to restore my energy, while my conscious mind has been harbored in this… place.”

“Infinite, please… just wait a second. Please stop, for just a few minutes, and let me talk to you. Could you give us that?”

Infinite turned to Mina, who was half-submerged in her tank. He raised a hand, and the water subsided. Sonic’s water even receded a few inches, affording him enough air to gasp at.

“Thank you.” Mina put her head to the glass. “Really, I… I want to say… No, I’ll just say it. I understand how you feel.”

“It goes beyond a feeling,” Infinite said. “It is a truth. The world, as it is, is a world of manipulation. Villains prey on your despair. Heroes prey on your hope. Only those few of us, like you and myself, and I suspect this individual, Blaze… see that. Understand that. Even fewer among us are willing to _act_ on that understanding.”

“You’re right, but… can’t you see that the real enemies in your life weren’t just people trying to make you support them? Or fear them? The real enemies… are people that take away your freedom. I’ve met so many in my life. So many people that want to take my and my friends’ freedom away from us. Eggman, Nack the Weasel… the Iron Queen.”

Nicole looked down.

“I got so afraid at having it taken away that my _music_ changed. I started pushing people towards that same… _stupid_ paranoia even with my music. I don’t—I’m—I’m trying to tell you that the people you have here, Sonic and Sally especially, have always fought for freedom. They’ve always fought against people who want to _take away_ our freedom. When you’ve suffered like you and I have… I don’t think it makes sense to punish them like this.”

“And yet our suffering continues,” Infinite said. “It will continue, as long as swindlers like Sonic promise us salvation and deliver us death. They know this, and yet—”

“Wrong,” Sally called. Infinite turned to her. “You’re wrong. Sonic and I never spare wrongdoers on the expectation or knowledge that they’ll commit their evils again. We spare them, because we believe that there is always at least the sliver of a chance they can reform.”

“You believed in that once too, Infinite. We saw!”

“I was a sheltered, ignorant child.”

“None of that means you were wrong.”

“Enough. I won’t argue semantics.”

With the flick of his hand, Infinite recommenced the flow of water.

“S—Sally!”

“Nicole! Just hold your breath, okay! Like this!”

Blaze stopped her fire long enough to bash a fist against the red-hot glass surrounding her. Finding it as firm as before, she scowled and began to rake her claws across it.

“Infinite, wait! If you do this… you’ll only be making the world just the kind of place you hate! You _want_ to believe in heroes, don’t you? You just get angry when the people they spare don’t reform. That’s reality – but now’s your chance to change reality! All you have to do is let us go, and you’ll prove that people _can_ reform!”

The water ceased at their necks. Sally looked to Mina with an admiring smile.

“… fine. You win.”

The glass walls fell. Blaze and Sonic both dropped to their hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air. Nicole too lowered herself to sit down, breathing heavily. Mina and Sally remained standing.

The laboratory walls and ceiling folded away to a bright blue sky. Underfoot, the tiled floor became squares of light and dark grass. Mina recognized it. Infinite’s childhood home.

Sonic rubbed his throat as he stood. Hoarsely, he muttered, “Here again, huh…”

Infinite pointed a silver claw towards the door to his house. It swung open to reveal a whirling red vortex. “This will set you free.”

Blaze turned. “You expect us to walk through that?”

“We can trust him,” Mina said. She turned to Infinite as she walked to it. “Thank you.”

Mina crossed through the threshold, vanishing. Hesitantly, Blaze followed her.

“You have total control over this simulation, now?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll free all the others from the program?”

“Yes.”

Sally nodded. She looked to Nicole. “Then let’s get out of here. Sonic?”

“Be right behind you.”

Nicole followed Sally to the doorway. Sally passed through, but Nicole lingered a moment, staring at her hands. She opened and closed them. She wriggled her toes over the grass. She pinched her arm. Then, she walked through.

Sonic and Infinite stood otherwise alone in Green Hill Zone. Sonic’s eyes scanned the artificial horizon. Even if all that had changed was his understanding of this world, everything now seemed just as little bit… wrong. The Flickies’ voices were off-pitch. The loop-de-loops were _too_ circular. The grass didn’t spring back from the pressure of his shoe quickly enough. In the height of his terror back at Knothole – no, before that, all those months he spent wandering Station Square – he had thought this sense of falseness was localized with himself. Now, he knew that he was dreaming, that the faults were in the perfection of the world around him. He was ready to wake up.

Infinite sat down, peaceably crossing his legs. “You will be the last one to leave, Sonic. I’ve released all other subjects from the program. Even Tails is waiting for you.”

Sonic watched him. “You know, I never knew about… everything that happened here. What you did because of it wasn’t right, but… I guess I’m sorry I can't always live up to the name.”

Infinite sat in silence.

Sonic turned and climbed the slope to the door. The Ruby vortex yawned before him.

“One last thing, Sonic.”

“What’s that.”

“My body is on the edge of death. It’s my impression that one of the Sol Emeralds is currently sustaining me, but the moment its connection with the Ruby prototype is severed, I will surely die.”

Sonic stood in silence.

“Whatever you choose to do, continue without guilt – Sonic the Hedgehog. But as your friend said… someone will always pay the price for your mercy. Don’t lose sight of that.”

Sonic waited a moment longer. Then, he stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a lot of notes for you on this chapter:
> 
> I'm traditionally against trigger warnings of any kind, though I felt it appropriate here. I also didn't want to tag this entire fanfic as containing graphic violence, since it's especially concentrated in this scene.
> 
> As you might have been able to put together, much of the events of this chapter are adapted from the Infinite prequel comic and his backstory in Sonic Forces' Episode Shadow. I touched up some of the dialogue and action to fit the overtones of this story, but I hope the adaptation still feels true to canon.
> 
> In my opinion, Shadow should be written as brutal. He is a living weapon. His putting out Infinite's eye I also felt was always implied as part of their fight, considering Infinite's face was obscured for the entire cutscene, and his blue eye never shows through his mask after the fact.
> 
> Shadow here uses his ability of Chaos Rift, as it was depicted in the game Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood.
> 
> My apologies, Shadow and Infinite's voices use a similar color - Shadow's is slightly brighter. There wasn't much I could do to avoid this, and I apologize if it's difficult to follow their dialogue. Though, at least symbolically, I think it somewhat suits them.
> 
> Oh, and in case it was unclear, Shadow was just part of Infinite's memories, as was Eggman and the jackal squad. They are just constructs of the virtual reality, not dreamers.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	25. Then Comes Tomorrow

## 25 – Then Comes Tomorrow

Sonic opened his eyes to a haze of orange hair and pressure around his chest. He blinked a moment. Something wet was shuddering on his shoulder.

“Uh… hello?”

Tails sat back, wiping his eyes. “Hi, Sonic. Heheh.”

“Tails?? Holy friggin’… smokes, dude, you’re huge!”

“Haha.”

Sonic shifted. A stroke of deep pain rushed through his muscles. “Ohhh, my _bones_.”

“Yeah. Um, try not to move. You’ve been in a coma for… six months? So.” Tails sniffed. “It looks like the hibernation and… maybe some Ruby energy kept, uh, everyone intact, though.”

“What’s with the hair, man?” Sonic whirled his finger over his head. “You look like—well, you know, you look great. It’s cool. Cool haircut.”

“It’s not intentional. I just haven’t… haven’t wanted to do anything… with it.”

“Well—ugh—let it rock.” Sonic rolled over, pushing himself to his feet.

"Sonic--"

"No no no, I'm fine. The conversational buzz that might accompany a town event reverberated around him. He teetered forward and grabbed the side of a chair – Tails grabbed him also – and then he looked down, realizing he was way high up above a stirring crowd of people, in some sort of huge spherical room. Above, a gash in the ceiling was letting in the light of a full moon.

“Hello everyone!” Sonic followed the sound to see the chipmunk from the simulation. Sally. She was positioned halfway along a bridge to their platform. “Some of you know me already, but for those that don’t, I’m Sally!”

Sonic laughed, elbowing Tails. “What kinda Princess just goes by first name?” he whispered.

“I’d ask that everyone please remain calm, everything is under control! All the wraiths are gone, and you’ve all been released from the simulation. We will escort you out of the desert shortly. Please try to find any loved ones now to make travel easier. More announcements soon!”

“I thought they were all supposed to be as stuffy as Blaze.”

“You were saying?”

Sonic spun around, nearly knocking Tails over. “Whoa, hey, Blaze. I—whoa.”

Sonic blinked. Blaze was dressed in badly torn Resistance gear, with blood soaking through at multiple points. Her normally kempt hair was splayed out, and a full inch had come off her usually towering height without her trademark heels.

Blaze sighed. “That bad.”

“Do you—do you need help, Blaze? I have a medkit in the Cyclone.”

“The Cyclone?” Sonic looked around, suddenly noticing the hulking blue machine. “Holy moly, how did I miss that? I—” he looked again to Tails, blinking. “Hey, wait, you’re not actually _that_ huge. I think you’re only like. Sizable, now.”

“What… what was I before?”

“The medicine won’t be necessary, Tails.” Blaze limped past the two to the steel sphere behind them. Partially visible through its damaged hull was the Sol Emerald. She crouched to reach in. “I’ll only need this.”

 _Wait, that’s…_ Sonic followed the wires to the chair beside him, then backed up. “Blaze, wait!”

Blaze groaned. “What is it now?” She withdrew her hand. “We just heard everyone was out of the simulation.”

Sonic shook his head. “There’s still one person left.”

Blaze squinted, then opened her eyes. “Surely you’re not serious.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Have you forgotten what he just did to you? And all these people?”

Sonic shrugged. “A life’s a life.”

Sally arrived. “What’s happening?”

“This imbecile is suggesting I not take the Sol Emerald, for the benefit of Infinite.”

“Imbecile? Woof, rough. At least drag me in words I can spell.”

Sally looked to Infinite, where he was slouched in his chair. Exposed, his scarred and empty eye and the wounds across his body made him appear terribly… weak. The Phantom Ruby prototype flickered in his chest.

Sally bit her lip. “Is there a way to bring him off the Sol Emerald without killing him?”

“Does it matter? Ask Tails what crimes he's committed.”

“Consider it. For the sake of the question.”

“For what it’s worth—I…” Tails looked between Blaze and Sally, swallowing. “I don’t think we should let him die. And I… lived through it.”

Sonic nodded slowly. “I take it back, Tails. You _are_ huge. That’s very big of you.”

“Shut up,” Tails laughed, quietly.

Sally and Blaze both suppressed smiles at hearing Tails’ laughter. Sally cleared her throat. “But is there? Is there a way?”

"Um... I don't know. I'd need another power source. I guess I could use the Cyclone--"

“Oh! Wait, hold on. I got somethin'.” Sonic held out a hand. A bead of red light glowed in his palm, which blossomed quickly into the red Chaos Emerald. “Good thing no one robbed the tomb while I was asleep, huh? Tails, can ya hotwire our buddy here to run on Chaos octane?”

“That’s not what hotwiring… okay. Yeah, uh, I can try.” Tails accepted the Chaos Emerald, crouching beside the reactor. “Can someone go get my toolbox out of the Cyclone?”

Sally and Sonic silently accepted the objective, leaving for the mech while Blaze gingerly lowered herself to sit beside Tails.

“So where’d that lynx girl get off to?” Sonic looked down at the crowd. “You guys seemed pretty close back there. I figured you’da already found her down there.”

Sally looked at him, thinking a moment. Then, she pulled the PDA from her holster and handed it over. “This is she. Her name’s Nicole,” she said.

Sonic looked at her quizzically, then flipped open the screen. A tiny image of the lynx peered back out at him. “Hello, Sonic.”

“This a Skype call?” Sonic asked.

“No, you’re actually holding my primary unit. I’m an AI.”

“Huh.” Sonic turned the PDA over, inspecting it. “No animal core?”

“Nope! Just electricity, plastics, and alloy.”

“Oh, good. Wasn’t sure if I was gonna have to bust you open, free someone inside.”

“Haha. No, please don’t do that.”

“What could even fit in you? A cricket? Are crickets smart enough to be cores?”

As they’d arrived at the Cyclone, Sally took to fulfilling Tails’ actual request of retrieving his toolbox while Sonic wandered off talking to Nicole. Sally was turning when Mina appeared beside her, breathless.

“Princess Sally,” Mina said.

“Mina. Hello.”

“I… I’ve gotta talk to you. It’s really important.”

“I’m not sure I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“What? Apolog—what do you… oh.” Mina finally settled her breath. “You mean with Nicole? For the… for the stupid concerts?”

Sally raised an eyebrow.

“No, yeah. I know I messed up with those, but I already tracked her down back at Freedom HQ. I apologized to her in person.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Honest. A hundred percent. You weren’t there, Rotor told everyone you were out on a mission? Anyway, I’m still making it up to her, but I did say sorry. That’s not what I’m here for.”

Sally nodded. “Then what is it?”

“Ash isn’t here,” Mina said, waving a hand at the crowds below. “My mom, either!”

Sally set a hand on Mina’s shoulder. “That’s okay. We don’t know that they _would_ be here… There’s something much bigger happening, Mina. Bigger than you or me, and everything in this room. To start, we aren’t on Mobius. We’re on Beryllia.”

“Huh?” Mina put a hand on her forehead. “So we’re on… that Sonic’s world?”

“That’s right. You and I – and some of the people down there – came here on meteors. We don’t know how many of us there are, but all these dimensional refugees seem to be coming from our Mobius and associated Zones. Like Moebius.”

Mina shuddered. “Urgh. Moebius.”

“Yes. We—”

“Hey! Can someone _please_ bring me my tool… uh…” Tails trailed off, his eyes set on Sally and Mina.

Sally waved back. “I’ll be right over, Tails!” Then, turning to Mina: “I’ll fill you in more later. But basically, don’t panic. And… thank you for apologizing. It was the right thing to do.”

Mina gave a tired smile and nodded. Sally walked to Blaze and Tails, and Mina wandered over to Sonic and Nicole.

Sally settled beside Tails, handing him his toolbox. “Sorry for the wait.”

“That’s okay, I…” Tails accepted it, his body still twisted to look behind him. “Um, Sally, who is that?”

“Hm?” Sally turned to follow his gaze. “Mina?”

“The girl with the green clothes.”

“Yes, that’s Mina. She’s a singer… and former Freedom Fighter.” Sally looked to Tails. “Why, do you know the version of her from this world?”

“Huh? Uh, no.” Tails quickly turned back to the reactor. “Never mind.”

“Not everyone possesses dimensional counterparts,” Blaze muttered. Sally leaned to look past Tails. She was slumped against Infinite’s chair, the lines beneath her eyes dark, her eyelids drooping. “As common as they are, I have only one… that I know of. In the Ninth. But everyone has one there…”

“Uh, Blaze… are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine… once I get the Emerald.” Blaze stretched her jaw. “You must be happy, Sally.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Everything went as you planned it.”

“That’s… wildly untrue. We were in severe danger multiple times.”

“Some say the ends… justify the means.” Blaze’s eyes closed. “Thank you for your help…”

“Blaze?” Sally climbed over to Blaze and pressed a finger to her neck. Her artery weakly throbbed its pulse. “Tails, is there any chance you could work faster? Blaze really needs this Emerald.”

“Yeah, I’m almost done… and… got it.” Tails drew the Sol Emerald from the reactor. “Here, it… ah—it kinda burns.” Tails set it in Blaze’s cradled hands.

A low hum filled the air as the yellow Sol Emerald touched Blaze’s palm. A misty yellow light flowed from it, wrapping around her limbs in ribbons. The gashes visible through the tears in her uniform appeared to bind themselves closed – the blood evaporated from over them.

“Hey, it’s working!”

“Good--” Sally's eyes flicked to Tails. She sniffed. “Tails, you… need a shower.”

“… wh-what?”

Sally ran her fingers over his head. “Your hair is greasy, too. Do you need help cleaning it?”

“No! It’s—no, I’m fine.” Tails hopped away, clutching the red Chaos Emerald. He’d reattached the nodes and framing of the reactor to a smaller steel case surrounding it – he rounded the chair to set the ensemble in Infinite’s hand. “There.”

“Nice work, bud.” Sonic trotted over, with Mina – holding Nicole – in tow. “This mean we’re set to go?”

“Almost. We’re just waiting on Blaze.”

“Cool. So, in your guys’ world, Tails and I are members of the Knothole Gang, right?”

Sally smiled. “We call ourselves the Freedom Fighters, but yes.”

“Knothole Gang sounds cooler, though.”

“… would you believe me if I told you we’d already had this exact argument?”

“Well, watch this!” Sonic flexed his fingers. “Look, I can… Knothole Gang! Er—” Sonic twisted one hand into a vague claw shape. “How do I do a G? I’ve got the K down… Actually, that K’s just an E, isn’t it?” After a few moments of bending his fingers, he held up a mangled K and G. “There. Knothole Gang! How’s that, huh?”

Sally put a finger on her chin. “I’m not sure. We’re pretty committed to the Freedom Fighter branding.”

“How committed?”

“Mm… ten-odd years. Two wars…”

Blaze’s eyes shot open. She rose to her feet, clutching the Sol Emerald.

“Hey, you look better.”

Blaze’s eyes flitted between the party around her. “Yes,” she managed. “I heal more quickly the more Sols I possess.” She opened her palm, and the familiar colored lights of the Sol Emeralds fluttered from her wrist, manifesting in a steady circle: red, silver, purple, blue, green, cyan. Then, the yellow Sol rose from her hand, taking its place in the rotation. “And now… I have all of them.”

Sally tilted her head. “Do you have any idea now how the yellow Sol got out here?”

Blaze looked to Infinite’s body a moment, then quietly answered, “No. Though… something tells me this one came here of its own accord.”

The ambient sound from the room beneath them began to build. “Uh, Princess Sally? I think these guys are getting antsy.”

Sally stepped aside, leaning over to look down at the stirring crowd of well over three hundred people. “Everyone, follow me! I’ll lead you out!” She started moving for the bridge.

Sonic gingerly lifted Infinite. “He’s lighter than I thought,” he muttered. Tails carefully roped up the black wires binding him to the Chaos Emerald, then set it on his chest. “Let’s put him in the Cyclone, buddy – and, if you’ve got a tarp, throw it over. These people… ain’t gonna be thrilled to see him. If you catch my drift.”

\---

When they had reemerged from the eye of the Death Egg and crossed to the warped steel debris they had used as shelter, they found the stolen Eggman shuttle and the supplies they’d left in its flatbed.

“Sain?” Sally called. No response.

Their group rounded the impromptu camp a moment, but there was no sign of the missionary. Not even footsteps.

“I told you something wasn’t right with that one,” Blaze mused.

Sally traced a finger around the top of one of the water barrels, peeling back a small circle of aluminum. Still full. “Well… doesn’t look like he took anything.”

Blaze shook her head. “If you’re all settled here, I’ll be going.”

Sally turned to her and drew in a deep breath. “Right. You’ve got all your belongings out of the Cyclone?”

“Here.” Blaze tapped the duffel bag under her arm. “Camouflage, of course.”

“Well, now you can maintain the element of surprise. Maybe you can even sneak through the court.”

“If I can maintain the bag at all. I’ll have to hope it doesn’t melt in transit.” Blaze huffed. “It may be fire resistant, but I doubt it was fashioned to survive the peak activity of all seven Sols.”

“I’ll let Knuckles know there’s room for improvement.” Sally looked at the clean, empty horizon of the desert, white moonlit sand against black star-speckled night. “Did you take care of your goodbyes?”

“All but one... or two,” Blaze said. She held out her hand. “May I speak to Nicole?”

Sally blinked, then lifted a hand to touch her eyepiece. “Nicole?”

“Please pass me over, Sally.”

Sally unclipped the eyepiece, setting it in Blaze’s palm. Blaze held it over her own eye – the screen flickered as it readjusted. Then, Blaze saw the lynx standing beside Sally.

“Hello,” Nicole said.

“Hello.”

Sally turned away, walking for the Cyclone. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

“The last time we spoke, I was too harsh. I apologize.”

“Oh. I accept your apology.”

“I think we both learned something from our experience in that… simulation, as it were. You received a taste of true embodiment. And I saw that the Ruby had recognized you and I alike as ‘souls’.”

“… yes, those observations would be valid, given your beliefs.”

“But it's not these observations alone driving me to now treat you more humanely. You and Princess Sally alike have well proven to me that there is much thinking I have left to do regarding the way I see this multiverse and its actors.”

“I’m glad we could be of service,” Nicole said, smiling.

Blaze paused a moment, then continued: “Before I go, I would like to tell you a story… the story of a dead dimension. The Seventh.”

“A ‘dead’ dimension?”

“Yes. It died long before I ever received the mantle of Guardianship and thus had the opportunity to travel there.”

“How exactly does a dimension ‘die’?”

“It simply ceases to exist. Dimensions... behave not unlike living entities or flames. They are born, they age, and they die; though the only ones our oracles have thus far _seen_ die, ironically, have died in the process of their birth. Their differentiation from the intercosmic background noise - you could think of that as their form of 'gastriculation.'”

“So… that's how a dimension is ‘born’? By differentiation?”

“The circumstances vary. Some predate recorded time, as they necessarily would for us to even make note of them. Others may burst to life from kindling: the splinters of another’s time stream. The circumstances of the Seventh’s creation were especially unique, however.” Blaze crouched to take a handful of sand from near her feet. Letting the grains skate across the palm of her black fingerless glove, she continued, “It was a simulated reality, likely populated by individuals such as yourself.”

Nicole quietly processed this. “And, a dimension… is it not a localized reality?”

“For our purposes, that’s an acceptable definition, yes.”

“Then wouldn’t a ‘simulated reality’, fitting the qualities of a legitimate reality, no longer be a simulation? Per the cartographer’s paradox, shouldn't it be a dimension of its own right?”

“Yes - you’re right to find the case strange. Paradoxical. The story of the Seventh is something of a legend in the court of my family. I call it a ‘simulated reality’ because it began as a simulation within another dimension, then seemed to… grow, gradually behaving more and more like the other realities of the time.” Blaze dusted her hands. “As I've said, it died in that process – and though it no longer exists, I wanted to tell you of it. The possibilities it represents… for beings like yourself.”

“And what possibilities are those?”

“That, on an intercosmic scale, the concept of ‘truth’ is mutable. That, when we take strong enough conviction in our beliefs, we may be capable of willing those very beliefs into being - as though we were writing the ‘truth’ ourselves. The multiverse has proven inorganic entities as worthy of agency as the organic. And though we might presently disagree on the premise of souls, no one should deny you your personhood. Certainly not I.” 

"... thank you."

"Of course, the story of the Seventh comes with its own sinister weight, and for that I've long tried to... keep it from my mind." Blaze looked over her shoulder. “Who knows? We may never even have woken up from that jackal’s dream. Alternatively, we may have from the very beginning been operating within the confines of an even greater dream, as characters in a story whose higher ramifications and audience we could never truly comprehend.”

“Yes. These certainly are all possibilities, but – and not to dismiss the mythos of your people –why would you not choose the most obvious explanation: that we are all _real_ , yet merely coordinated matter, microscopic in the span of the realities you’re detailing?”

“Because even on my 'microscopic' level I have found reality does not operate per the fulfillment of obvious explanations. And, regardless, it is the nature of conscious beings to be tortured by our lack of knowledge. How we conduct ourselves day-to-day is synonymous with how we cope with that distress.” Blaze nodded. “Yes… until now, I was merely avoiding that truth. I do have much more to learn.”

“… as do I,” Nicole smiled.

“Best of luck.”

“And you, Princess Blaze.”

Blaze removed the eyepiece and waved Sally over, setting it in her palm. Then, she took Sally’s hand in a handshake. “It’s been educational, Princess Sally.”

“It has.”

“And, as you’ve left me with many questions, I feel it’s appropriate I leave you with at least one of my own – a souvenir, of sorts.”

“It being?”

“You and I walk a similar path. A vast number of people depend on each of us, and the actions we take have never been merely our own. In this multiverse, then, we must choose – to strive as heroes, or rulers. Which will you become?”

Sally pursed her lips. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Take care.”

“And you.”

With that, Blaze stepped back, compressing the duffel bag against her chest. Flames swirled around her ankles – then, she crouched and leapt up, blasting the sand underfoot to cragged glass. Rising, she left behind a streak of fire in the night sky, before exploding in a wave of blinding energy that staggered Sally, a good fifty feet below. When she reopened her eyes, Blaze was gone.

“Aw, what?”

Sally turned to Sonic. “Hm?”

“Uh, seeya Blaze, I guess. Jeez.”

“…oh, I'm sorry, Sonic. She told me she’d said her goodbyes.”

“Guess Tails and I weren’t on the list.” Sonic shrugged. “Eh, what can you do.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t personal,” Sally said. “She’s been working tirelessly to get her hands on the last Sol Emerald. I’m sure she just wanted to get home.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I don’t blame her. Her home’s pretty cool – well, the parts that aren’t underwater. I should take you sometime!”

“Hah. Looks like it’ll have to wait until this whole crisis is sorted out…”

“Well, well. Look who it is.”

Sally turned.

Standing before her was a short fox boy with upright posture, dressed in a foreign military uniform, with cropped gray hair styled over to the side. “Hello, Alicia. I’ll admit I didn’t believe Rosy when I heard you were working for _them_.”

“Tails?” Sonic did a double take to where Tails was still toying with the Eggman shuttle.

“No,” Sally said. “This is the Anti-Tails.”

“ _Anti_ -Tails?”

The fox grit his teeth. “It’s _Miles_. Miles Prower. You know the name, it isn’t hard.”

The bright loud colors of Rosy's outfit exploded out of the crowd behind him. She jogged over. “Milessss…. Wait for meeee!”

“And that’s the Anti-Amy, called Rosy. They’re from the mirror Zone of Moebius.”

“What, so they’re like opposites? … he's stupid, and she… actually respects my privacy?”

“No, to both. Either way – Miles – I’m Sally. Sally Prime. _Not_ Alicia. I know we look similar, but at least I—” Sally looked down at her clawed and bloodied shirt, fur, and shorts. “Who am I kidding. I look awful too.”

“Princess Sally, then. You did fool me.” Miles pointed to Sally’s nanite bike, parked beside the shuttle car. “You even have her bike. And, I heard Rosy helped you free us?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Isn’t working with us deplorables a little morally risqué for you light-siders? And wrangling Rosy is a feat in itself.”

“Well, she promised to get us back to Scourgey! For goodsies!”

Miles’ ear twitched. “Ah. Joy.”

“Who’s ‘Scourgey’?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sally muttered. She cleared her throat. “Now, I _did_ make that deal with Rosy – but I don’t recall making one with you. I have half a mind to save myself some hassle and just arrest you on the spot, actually.”

“What for?” Miles gave a smug smile. “You and I have no quarrel.”

“Declaring war and invading my Zone doesn’t constitute a ‘quarrel’?”

“He invaded what now?”

“We cooperated in the end.”

“Alicia!” Rosy’s eyes glittered brightly. “I saw Scourgey in there! It was just us two, in the special place… he was running away!” She leaned forward, and in a rushed, excited whisper, continued: “I finally caught him! I had his arms. But just when I was gonna—” she trailed off in a crooked laugh, motioning as if she were crushing something in her hands, shuffling in place.

Sonic furrowed his brow in horror.

Rosy refocused on Sally suddenly, with a grave face. “When do I get him for good.”

“We’re… still working on that, Rosy. But thanks to your help, we’re a lot closer.”

“And she’s not Alicia, you idiot.”

“Don’t be a meanie, Smiles!” In a smooth motion, Rosy spawned her hammer and swung it down over Miles’ head. Miles, reacting from the moment she’d raised her hands, managed to dive away and dodge the impact.

“Okay, Rosy! Enough! I yield! I yield!”

Sonic and Sally quietly retreated from their conflict. “I suppose I’ll have those two to handle, going forward.”

“Sure are a lot of folks here from your world. Or… worlds, I guess?”

“Right. I explained this to Mina earlier, but to put it bluntly: it’s an interdimensional refugee crisis. People from our dimension are being brought here against their will, and I’m considering it my task to get us all back.”

“Huh. Well, if that’s what you want, I’m happy to help. Let me know what I can do.”

Sally looked to him, stunned. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, well. War’s over, so I figure I oughta find somethin’ new to work on anyway. If I don’t find a way to keep busy, I tend to get lost when people need me.” Sonic started tapping his foot. “Anyway, the whole project shouldn’t be too hard. You need two Chaos Emeralds and two users to make a rift, right? We’ve got one and one. So we just gotta find…”

Sally started laughing.

Sonic smiled. “What, I say somethin’?”

“It’s just… I almost forgot how easy you are to work with, Sonic.”

“Sally, Tails says he's all set.”

“Oh - okay, Nicole, thank you.” Sally rubbed her eye. “Right. We should focus on one thing at a time. Let’s get everyone here back to HQ, then we can talk strategy.”

“HQ?” Sonic sniffed. “Isn’t Beryllia City kinda far from here? Besides, how are gonna fit all these people in one sewer?”

“Oh, Knuckles did say he’d moved locations. They’re based in a restored castle, now.”

“A _castle_! You must feel right at home there.”

“I’d probably have felt more at home in the sewer, to tell you the truth.”

“Hahaha!”

Sally raised a hand. “Everyone that can hear me, start moving this way! That’s this way, people, follow me! We’re headed due southeast for Resistance HQ!”

The wide and amorphous crowd slowly began to move, as spearheaded by Sally, Sonic, Tails, and Mina. As they rolled over the rough sand of the Badlands, out towards the burnt grass and crumbling cliffs of the former Green Hill, behind them, the immense wreck of the Death Egg wavered more and more, before at last vanishing from existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this marks Blaze's exit from Book 1. Personally, I'll miss her quite a bit, as she was one of the driving causes for my creating this fanfiction. The idea to start outlining this whole thing came 12 months ago, when I realized I really wanted to explore the chemistry between Sally and Blaze - since then, I've written something to the tune of 450 thousand words of combined outline, personal character analyses, chronology of the games canon, and the fanfiction itself.
> 
> I've really enjoyed it quite a bit. Though it naturally isn't publishable as-is, I think it's been great personal practice for material I _can_ publish, and overall it's certainly felt more rewarding as a hobby than just gaming. 
> 
> Don't let my melancholy tone confuse you though, there are two more chapters before we end Part 1 and I probably go on a bit of a hiatus (though I have written 1.5 chapters of Part 2). 
> 
> I'm not sure there's much else for me to write about this chapter... oh, right. I accidentally uploaded chapter 24 on Monday instead of Tuesday, but I think something went right, because I got over 40 views in the course of the week! So I might repeat that mistake next week, who knows. See you then, and as always, thanks for reading.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	26. Return

##  26 – Return

With the screech of rubber and whirling dust Sonic slid to a stop before the gates of Resistance HQ. He waved his hand in a half-salute. “Knuckles! Long time no see.”

“Sonic.” Knuckles, standing at the foot of the lowered drawbridge, kept his gaze set forward. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“Yeah. Good to be back.” Sonic set his hands on his hips, twisting to followed Knuckles’  gaze. It was set on the crowd of refugees advancing from the desert. He looked back to the echidna, expectantly. “So… aren’t you gonna ask how I made it out alive? Tails says you told everyone I bit the dust.”

“I’m sure it’s a long, complicated story I really don’t care enough to hear.” Knuckles glanced at him. “Unless you have some read on where Eggman might be? Or my best soldier? Or that other… copy of you, that seemed to do more for us in a week than you did in six months?”

“Hey, okay, I was in like, space Guantanamo, alright? I had an excuse. Uh, but anyway, no. No clue where those guys are.” Sonic scratched his head. “Honestly, I can’t remember jack after kickin’ the Ruby out of that huge squid-lookin’ robot.”

“If you didn't have anything valuable to tell me, why did you want me to ask?”

“So you could show some concern for your dearest departed. And, so I could pull your leg.” Sonic leaned forward, squinting. “But about what you asked… I _do_ have this pretty good feeling Eggman’s actually like, gone this time though.”

Knuckles locked eyes with him. “Gone, as in…”

“Like, _gone_ gone. Dead.”

“Well. I’m glad you have that feeling.” Knuckles looked away again, sighing. “But, we also thought he was dead that time he fell into a volcano, or that time he got launched into space, or all those times his Egg Carriers crashed, or maybe—”

“Yeah yeah, the dude’s as slippery as they come. But this one’s different, right? I can tell you’re thinking the same thing.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I ‘feel that way’ about it too. But until someone brings me his fat, stupid, egg-shaped body with no pulse and forty stakes driven through it, and I get the chance to drive a 41st stake in there just for good measure, I think I’m gonna hold on to my doubt.”

Sonic shrugged. A few beats passed as he looked over the castle. It was certainly a step up from the sewer hideout. Sonic grinned as he remembered their pack of friends clustered around a table, talking out targets and daring plans. _Wonder if they’re inside?_

“Hey, where's—”

“Sally, could you explain what I’m looking at here?”

“—wh-okay then.” Sonic turned to see that Sally had arrived on her silver bike.

“Of course, Knuckles.” She wiped her goggles back to an eyepiece as she killed the motor.  “Operation Desert Freedom was a success on all counts. The wraiths are destroyed, the Sol Emerald was recovered… we even found Sonic.” She smiled, pointing.

Sonic took a bow. “Ta-da.”

“Yeah… that’s all great. But, why don’t you call it a ‘qualified’ success?” Knuckles lifted a hand to indicate the horizon. “‘Cause, I don’t remember ‘bringin' back another few hundred refugees’ bein' a mission objective.”

Sally blinked. “There wasn’t really an alternative. All those people have been displaced – some are even from Mobius, my home planet. I can debrief you, but basically, their bodies – and Sonic’s as well – were being used to power the wraiths.”

“And now those bodies will be used to drain what little is left of my army’s supplies.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sonic touched his nose. “Just give ‘em some blankets and food and send ‘em home. S’not hard.”

“You’re joking, right.”

“Sonic—”

“No, I’m not joking. What’s your deal? You sure got uptight while I was gone, didn’t you knuckleh—whoa!” Sonic narrowly ducked a sudden punch.

“Hey! Knuckles—”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to run any operation larger than yourself, you stupid blue pincushion!” Knuckles swung another two times. “Come here!”

“Ooh, you got slower, too!” Sonic taunted as he dodged effortlessly.

“Knuckles! Stop it!” Sally grabbed his arm mid-windup.

“Let go of me, woman!” Knuckles continued his swings, jerking Sally along. “I’ve been waiting six months to pulverize this deadbeat for vanishing. Like you _always_ do when you _happen to decide_ the job is done!”

“But the job _is_ done! Eggman’s toast this time, right? The war’s over!”

“Yeah, _this_ time!” Knuckles successfully threw Sally off. “So _next_ time, when he and Infinite creep back out of the woodwork and take over the world again in a matter of _days_ because people like you gave the green light for all my troops to dole out their supplies to whoever asks and go home, then where will we be?! _Right back where we started_!”

“… alright man, take a breath. Your eyes are redder than your fur.”

Knuckles inhaled a moment, then charged again. “Rrrararauuggh!”

“Wait, wait! Okay, okay! Time out!”

Knuckles slowed to a halt.

“Look – I get it.” Sonic lifted his hands in surrender. “I can be a jerk sometimes, sayin’ things are easier than they are, but trust me on this one. I was talkin’ with those guys out there – half of ‘em don’t live a day away from your new HQ. Gimme a few hours, I’ll jog over, get ‘em some stuff from their villages to bide the time. Then, they’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

Knuckles squinted.

“Sonic’s right,” Sally added. “Now that the wraiths are gone, the Beryllian refugees will feel confident enough to resettle. Their homes are safe. They’ll just need a little encouragement.”

Knuckles pointed. “…so they’ll be gone by tomorrow, you said?”

“Well, y'know…” Sonic shrugged. “Maybe a few days?”

“Two days. Or less.”

“We’ll get it done as soon as we can, Knuckles. But you know these things take time.”

“Yeah, I mean. Two—I could work with two days.” Sonic touched his chin. Then, his eyes widened. “Oh—and if you’re worried about Infinite comin’ back, rest easy. We’ve got him in the truck. Under wraps, though, you know.”

Knuckles’ eyes went completely blank. He seemed to turn his attention to some invisible, mystifying entity above Sonic. He managed a slow, “What?”

Sally covered her face. “Sonic…”

“What? It’s h—whoa, hey!” Sonic ducked another swing. “Hey! Faces are out!”

\---

Tails set the Cyclone to cart mode as he rounded the castle building. With his cockpit windshield shattered, the open wind passed overhead, throwing his hair every which way. He’d forgotten this feeling of freedom the air could give him. _Everything’s not so bad._

As he cued the hidden hangar panels behind the castle to open, he recalled how he’d felt leaving this place not one week ago. Even behind the mirrored lens he’d constructed for himself, he’d felt terrifyingly vulnerable – to the world, the eyes of others, everything. It would have been infinitely easier to remain in the dark confines of his room, watching the world through his screens, enjoying that layer of… certainty.

But something had been calling him. _It wasn’t… hope,_ he thought, watching the hangar doors and their sheets of faux vegetation shudder open. It was something more nuanced, and less deliberate: a subconscious inkling, a muted hunch, that Sally’s proposition meant more than just a chance to extinguish the wraiths… that, like him, she believed that the world was simply not _right_ as it was, that something was out of place, and that she would not rest until it was restored.

Was that something just Sonic? _No… not just Sonic._ The Cyclone descended into the musty confines of his hangar, the smell of risen dust swallowing up the crisp fall air. Certainly, getting Sonic back had done more to quell that feeling of guilt that had been gradually rotting through his stomach than any consolation Knuckles or Amy had offered him after the war.

But, it was the _idea_ of _finding_ Sonic that he now realized had really started to change the color of his heart. The idea that he and his friends could, on their own initiative, rescue a friend from the world of the dead… that reassurance, that testament to the inherent righteousness of the world was what had compelled him to embrace again the danger and opportunity of freedom. And there was something else, too…

The hangar doors rattled shut behind him. Tails rolled the Cyclone over a floor of tiled metal lattice to its usual location. He climbed out, and dropping to the floor, activated his communicator. “Nicole?”

“Yes, Tails?”

“I want to know… what you saw in the Null Space.”

\---

“… so, it’s really been six months, huh?”

Sonic and Knuckles watched from the wall of the castle as Sally directed the still-arriving refugees to impromptu tents. Occasionally, a group of them would notice Sonic looking down at them – and typically give him a wave, shout, or Resistance salute. Sonic would wave back.

“So, what happened to the resta the team? S’it just you and Tails now?”

“Amy’s still with us. I sent her north-east to raise us an army out of Casino Forest Zone.” Knuckles shook his head. “We _need_ a standing defense force, Sonic. Since Eggman vanished, crime and looting are back on the rise. As much as I hate the fat fop, at least when he’s around everyone’s got a common enemy.”

“… yeah.” Sonic leaned on the rampart. “And everyone besides Amy?”

“They all went their separate ways in the months after we won. The Chaotix are back in the human world, probably working a case in Central City. Said they’d come if we rang.” Knuckles shrugged. “Shadow opted to go north with Amy, took Omega with him. Said he had some ‘unfinished business.’”

“Wait, he say it like: _unfinished business. Hmph!_ ”

“Yeah. Just like that,” Knuckles agreed, humorlessly. “Rouge is also gone, but she didn’t leave with Shadow. I guess she’s back to ‘freelancing.’”

“Oh, y’oughta keep an eye on your Emerald, huh?” Sonic grinned.

“Don’t even talk about it.” Knuckles set his jaw. “Makes me sick thinkin’ about how long I’ve been away. I’ve got Mighty and Ray there to guard it, but sometimes I wonder…”

“What, if they’re enough?”

“If it’s _right_. To ask that of them.”

“Oh, yeah. I was gonna say, don’t flatter yourself. Mighty’s twice as strong as you, easy.”

“Whether I can bench more than Mighty isn't what's keeping me up at night. What _is_ , is that… Guardianship, the Master Emerald, they’re supposed to be my thing, you know? My responsibility. Mighty always says he’s happy to do it, ‘keeps Ray out of trouble’… but.” Knuckles shook his head. “Anyway, soon as we finally muster a real army, I’m headed back there.”

“Excuse me, uh, Sonic?”

Sonic turned to see a group of five Resistance soldiers. “Huh? Uh, what’s up?”

A rabbit soldier with dark red fur and a netted helmet was situated ahead of the others. Looking back, and seeing the others look to him, he said, “We… wanted to come tell you that it’s good to have you back, sir.”

“Oh… yeah. Thanks, you guys.” Sonic smiled.

“We’d spent a long time thinking you were dead, and…” the soldier appeared to be choking up. “We were starting to lose hope. So… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming back. Sir.”

“Sergeant Rind.” Knuckles said, his gaze still set on the motion of the crowd below.

The soldier flinched. “Yes, General?”

“You and your buddies there? You all have posts on this wall. And, I’m not turning fully around to look at you right now, because if I see all of those posts absent, I’m going to get very mad. You don’t want that.”

“I-I understand, sir.”

“Then get _back_ to your posts. You've got ten seconds.”

Stealing another few looks at Sonic, the group of soldiers broke apart and jogged back to their stations. Sonic let out a sigh and leaned back beside Knuckles.         

“I’m never gonna get used to that.”

“People actually depending on you?”

“W—No, I’m—” Sonic twisted his shoulders a moment, writhing against the idea, contorting as though someone had poured ice water down his back. Then, he slumped forward. “Yeah. Honestly… yeah.”

“I don’t like it either. But it’s reality.”

A few moments passed in silence. Then, Sonic steadily backpedaled away. “Well, uh. Speakin’ of realities... I think I’ve got someone to check up on.”

Knuckles groaned. “Don’t—I’ll explode. If you bring it up, I’ll explode.”

“Well—”

“It’s—how could you possibly want to help him? After everything he did?” Knuckles turned from the ramparts. “Everything that has gone wrong in my life, and everyone else around here’s life in the past year and a half has been because of him. And y— Go. Get out of here.” Knuckles waved his hand. “Just get out of here.”

Sonic silently obliged, backing into the wall’s stairwell and jogging down into the confines of the fort.

\---

“It was a terrifying sight. Red rivers, broken buildings, a tempest. I… cut my hand. I bled. I felt _pain._ ”

Tails had taken the narrow tunnel from the hangar to his room. The familiar blue-gray light of his sleeping monitors dragged the long shadow of his chair out to the back wall. He kicked his way through some miscellaneous garbage on the floor – ramen cups, tissues – as he crossed to the locks lining the inside of his door.

“I’d not felt pain before, Tails. I’ve felt… loss. When the nanites – when _any_ piece of me is separated, destroyed – I can tell, but I’ve never felt… that.”

“So, now you know what it’s like to be ‘below.’” There were nine deadbolts, each with a different process. “You know you can do better, but you’re stuck in your body. Just watching.”

He flicked the switch beside the doorframe. A fluorescent lamp overhead came on. He reexamined the locks before him – he hadn’t unsealed them in nearly a month, now.

“If I follow - I surely don’t now ‘know’ what it means to be embodied. There are more pleasant physical sensations than being hurt, or afraid, aren’t there?”

“Yeah—yeah. I guess… you only got a glimpse of the other side of the mirror. The one… between you and me.” Tails sniffed as he tugged the first lock’s brass bolt free of its clasp. “I’m guessing I only got a glimpse in there, too.”

“You were in the program? I did not see you with us.”

“I wasn’t. Not—I wasn’t with you, I mean.” Tails was on to the third lock. His hands recalled the order, the instructions he’d memorized when he drilled them to the doorframe. Three, four, five… “I—I was, I… I… don’t know to…” He stopped at the sixth lock, looking aside.

“To what, Tails?”

"How to phrase it." Tails rubbed his face. “So—you said you’d never felt pain before. And that uh, losing things… was your only way of figuring what it might be like.”

“Yes.”

“But in there, you really felt it. The feeling. Even if just for a little bit.”

“Yes. You could say I realized then that 'loss' was only ever an approximate of 'pain.'”

Tails nodded, undoing the sixth and seventh. “As long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be… _above_. Like I told you. I wanted to know what it’s like to be _above_ … you know, eating, sleeping, being in one place, I don’t know. I build these things, everything—everything here to help me, but…” He stopped, looking at his forearms, then to the huge monitors above his desk, wired to every camera, communicator, and drone at HQ. “They're all just approximates. And I never really got far, huh?”

“But… why do you want that, Tails?”

“I don’t know. I just always have, I think.” Tails scratched at his ear. “The reasons kinda come and go. I… but… one time, someone told me something. It was a long time ago, now. I don’t even know if he remembers. But he said, um, he said to me: ‘the builders will never know how their creations truly feel.’ I’ve been trying to outrun that since – like, the idea that I’m not ever gonna get past the approximates. I don’t want to think that... I can’t ever become what I’m trying to.” Tails shook his head, undoing the eighth. “And what I saw in there…”

A few heartbeats passed.

“What did you see?”

Tails finished the ninth lock. “I saw…” Light started to creep in through the divide between the steel door and its steel frame. “I saw behind the mirror. I finally got to see what it’s like – might be like – to be _above_.”

He shut his eyes. “I was… I was molding something, in my hands. It felt sandy. But, my eyes were closed. And when I opened them – I saw I was molding _myself_. My shoulders. I was shaping my back. And I turned around, and I saw another me behind me, shaping _my_ shoulders, and that me was turning back too, and it went on, forever. And I looked up, and I saw me again, ‘cause it was strings of me all shaping myself. All around. It was like… I was a thread… in the fabric of space. I was the builder… and I was the creation. I was creating… myself. And I _knew_.”

“And was that… good?” Nicole asked.

Tails opened the door. “It was… the most beautiful dream that I’ve ever had.”

\---

“Let’s get you situated right over there—” Sally gestured to an empty lot of land before the castle when someone tapped on her shoulder. She turned to see a woman in a fine, but tattered dress with two children by her feet.

“Princess Sally! Thank you ever so much for rescuing me and my boys.”

Sally smiled. She recognized this one from Elias’ court. “Of course, my lady. I—”

“Hey! What is this? Step off, old man!”

Sally blinked. “One moment, please.”

Sally turned again. The older man she’d been helping had been blocked by a taller, younger man from reaching the plot of grass she’d just assigned him.

The tall man pointed to Sally. “Just how are you choosin’ these lots, here? Who are you anyhow?”

“I’m just someone trying to help, sir. We’re all—” 

“This is Princess Sally, you ignorant peon!” The noblewoman shouted over. “She saved us all from that dungeon, and she’s royalty!”

“I don’t remember asking you anything, yeah? Shut up!”

Sally stepped forward, putting a hand on the noblewoman’s arm. “Thank you, my lady, but I'll handle this.” She walked quickly to where the two men stood. “Sir, could you just tell me the problem? I’d like to help.”

“I’ll tell you the problem. I already claimed this spot for my family. I’ve got 6 kids, my wife’s got them over there. I want closest to the castle in case of a wraith attack.”

“But there won’t be any more wraiths, sir. We’ve destroyed their point of origin.” Sally pointed to the elderly man beside her. “We need the elderly or disabled closer to the castle so they’ll have easier access to resources.”

“Uh huh.” The man raised his eyebrows. “You know, my hometown sheriff thought he had the wraiths handled more’n a few times. Look where my family ended up then.”

Sally nodded slowly. “If there’s some way I can assure you—”

“Oh, I think I’d feel awfully assured about ten feet from the castle walls until a few months have gone by with none of my kids taken in the middle of the night.”

“How close you are to the bridge isn’t gonna help you, anyway.”

The man turned. Sally looked past him to see that Knuckles had glided to them from across the moat. About even height, the two locked eyes.

“What’d you just say?”

“I said, how close you are to _my_ fortress isn’t gonna help you.” Knuckles tilted his head. “Because I’m not letting freeloading civilians like you hang around this _military_ _base_ any longer than I have to. Once Sonic’s got you the supplies for the walk, you’re headed home.”

The tall man stepped closer. “I don’t think you get what’s going on here.”

Knuckles scratched at his temple with his thumb. “Let’s see—you and your whole ungrateful family want our protection from a threat that no longer exists. And rather than going home to _your_ farm, and _your_ home, you’d like us to provide you everything you need.” His eye started twitching. “Wanna tell me what I’m getting wrong?”

“Yeah, actually. We’re a family of eight. My youngest are 1 and 3. You want me to march my _infants_ ‘cross this desert we got dragged through by _ghosts_ ‘til we get back to the town I was already losing crops in _last year_ when we’ve got no guarantee you actually did your job?”

A woman holding a child came up behind the taller man and tugged at his sleeve. “Sean—”

“Our _job_ is not to keep _you_ fed!” Knuckles thrust his hand forward to tap the taller man’s chest. Heads around them started to turn. “We are a standing defense force for global threats. Not a charity case!”

“Enough! That’s enough.” Sally stepped forward, an arm-blade drawn. “I’m stopping this, before it goes any further. We’re all gonna talk this out.”

The two men took slow steps back from one another.

“Knuckles, I know you’re doing the best you can to run this place. But it’s not… realistic to expect that _every_ person here is going to be gone two days from now.”

“You told me—”

“ _Sonic, agreed_ to that. And he’s gonna be a big help for both of us. But there are a lot of people here whose homes are hundreds of miles away, and even more from a totally different dimension.” Sally indicated the noblewoman where she was watching her children a dozen yards away. “We’ve got to help these people.”

“Would you like me to show you to the empty pantry behind the mess hall?” Knuckles had narrowly calmed his voice. He waved a hand behind him at the fortress, then jabbed it in front of his mouth. “I. Have nothing. To feed them with.” 

“That problem isn’t going to get better by sending people like these away,” Sally said. “We can send Sonic to nearby towns, call on them for aid. Now that the wraiths are gone, they can reopen their trade routes without fear.”

Knuckles stared back at her, then looked away with some reluctant, minor nods.

“This is all great to hear,” the man beside them said, “but can I stay here now? Is that what’s happening?”

“Yes,” Sally said. “If you have children, you should be closer anyway.” She looked to the elderly man. “Here, follow me. I’ll find you a different plot.”

\---

Sonic ducked through the door of the infirmary. Rows of white beds, bounded by white curtain walls, in a hall thinly lit by high, small, barred basement windows. A handful of nurses and medics paced from bed to bed. Several refugees from the Death Egg had been brought down here, mostly for heat stroke. Sonic had followed the crowd.

He spotted Tails’ tails trailing from behind one of the curtain walls and jogged over to him. “Yo, Tails,” he said, “how fares our former foe?”

Tails flinched, scooting the small office stool he’d seated himself on. “Uh—he’s—he’s stable.” He pointed to a stout heartrate monitor beside the bed.

The modified reactor and Chaos Emerald sat atop it, with its wires trailing up to Infinite’s body. A black towel had been draped across his chest.

“Any clue when he’s gonna wake up?”

“Nope.” Tails shook his head. “He’s still in the comatose state we found all of you in.”

Sonic tilted his head – he could just see the red glow of the Ruby prototype reflecting underneath the drape. He stepped forward and adjusted it for better coverage. “Maybe once we get that thing out of him?”

“The doctor… says she’s thinking on how to safely remove it.” Tails nodded, slowly. “I’m gonna help her. To design the surgery.”

“Oh. Uh, cool.” Sonic looked over the jackal’s scarred body. He felt a bit strange knowing more than a few of the marks were ones he’d inflicted. He turned to Tails. “I’m glad you’re with me on this, bud. It’s – y’know, you shouldn’t kick a man while he’s down.”

“Mm-hm.” Tails sniffed. “It’s… well, I’m getting something out of it too, you know.”

“What’s that?”

“The prototype,” Tails said. He shuffled on his stool, quieting his voice. “In the war, you know, I was always _running_ from the Phantom Ruby. I thought that all it did was… dig around inside of you, find what you were afraid of, and shove that in your face.”

Sonic swallowed, briefly remembering the glass tube from the simulation. “Uh huh.”

“When I got its data in Chemical Plant Zone, all I tried to do was find a way to break it and get rid of it.”

“Yeah?” Sonic jabbed a thumb at the body. “So you wanna bust it once we get it out?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Tails held up both hands. “I want to… study it some more. It’s the _last_ prototype, you know? Maybe I can actually… make it do some good. For a change.”

“Huh.” Sonic nodded with an easy smile. “Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

“Thanks.”

“Just don’t stick it in _yourself_ and go all mad scientist on us, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tails laughed. “I won’t. I promise.”

Tails’ wrist communicator crackled. He adjusted it in his cuff.

“Tails? It’s Sally. Do you come in?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you seen Sonic?”

Sonic leaned over. “I’m right here. What’s good?”

“Could you come to Knuckles’ office in the tower? We’re holding a strategic meeting.”

“Roger roger.”

“See you there.”

Tails clicked off his communicator.

“‘Strategic meeting,’ huh?” Sonic grimaced, setting a hand on Tails’ shoulder. “Yikes. When’d things get so serious around here?”

Tails pointed silently to Infinite’s body.

“Okay, well, yeah. But that dude’s out of commission now.” Sonic waved. “Knuckles always sucks the fun out of everything. We’re doing good work here. We always do! Might as well try to enjoy ourselves in the process.”

“Um, yeah. But, if these meteors are a sign, we might be dealing with something bigger than Eggman now, you know? Bigger than anything we’ve ever seen. Dimensions clashing with each other on this scale…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sonic raked a hand through his quills. He recalled the clubroom. “Weird to think there’s other ‘us’es out there, huh? Different friends. Families, even.”

“I know. Sally says she grew up with most of us. And I think… the other ‘me’ is actually here, now?” Tails twisted his mouth. “He’s really creepy-looking.”

“Yeah, honestly, I’d steer clear of that dude. He wigs me out too.”

Tails squinted. “Wait… did you say ‘families’ just then, Sonic?”

“Huh?”

“Did you see something? In Null Space?”

“Ahh, don’t worry about it. Arright, bud?” Sonic lightly smacked the side of his face. “I’m gonna go dance the Knuckles dance. Keep an eye on the big bad for me.”

“Okay.”

Sonic backpedaled away: Tails watched him slip between a pair of talking nurses and dodge a rushing doctor, before ducking back out through the infirmary door.

Alone now, in this crowd of men and women in white, Tails felt his breath quickening. _They can… they can all see me._ He swallowed, shaking his head. The panic had been holding off on the trip back, but he could feel it building again. _No, you’re okay. You’re okay, nothing’s wrong. You can leave whenever you want. But you don’t have to._

He became aware of his heartbeat in his ears. His eyes trailed over Infinite’s body. He bunched up his fists. His breath slipped out of rhythm. _Stop stop stop. You’re fine. You know you are._ He swallowed, waiting a moment longer. Then, a sudden shudder ran over his entire body. He jumped to his feet. _Okay, okay, go. Get back to the room. Just—_

_“Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'_

_'Cause I've built my life around you…”_

Tails slowed his steps, looking up to the basement windows. One nurse had climbed on a stool and propped open a windowpane. Fresh fall air rushed in from the courtyard – and carried with it a voice in song.

_“But time makes you bolder_

_Even children get older_

_And I'm gettin' older, too.”_

Tails swallowed. His heart was still thudding, but slowing now. Several other heads in the infirmary turned. The medical chatter and footsteps calmed. Someone was playing guitar – acoustic, simple, but rolling. Tails moved, almost unthinkingly, to the stool the nurse had used to prop the window.

_“Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'_

_'Cause I've built my life around you…_

_But time makes you bolder_

_Even children get older_

_And I'm gettin' older, too.”_

He climbed it and peered through; and there she was, her head barely visible above a crowd of refugees, the neck of a guitar beside her. She was looking down at its strings, with soft eyes and a faint smile. Her mouth moved, and even as far away as she was, her voice carried.

_“Oh I'm… gettin' older, too...”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of two "wrap-up chapters" that are technically not necessary and possibly repetitive but help put some things into place. I also felt this one was the more natural end to the part, thematically and character-wise. Next chapter is more so preparation for part 2.
> 
> I'm thinking of styling the parts so that a reader could theoretically "jump in" at any point. Naturally that isn't always going to be the case, because material will be referential to and predicated on past plot details, but it'll be easier than a wall of unsorted text.
> 
> The song Mina sings is Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4M53xndqiU
> 
> The quote Tails recalls - "the builders will never know how their creations truly feel" - is in fact from one of the games. Here's a little quiz; what game, and who said it to him? No googling allowed! Bonus points if you can remember the context, too.
> 
> \--
> 
> Upload schedule Tuesdays and Fridays.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	27. Postscript

##  27 – Postscript

“… then we hit Arsenal Pyramid again on the way back, for water. Sonic obviously made it a much easier mission the second time—”

Sonic blew through the door to Knuckles’ office, swinging it out to slam on the opposite wall. Sally and Knuckles flinched.

“Whew!” Sonic backpedaled in, assessing the sizable chip the metal handle had made in the stone block of the wall.

“Great. That’s great.” Knuckles shook his head. “Go on.”

“Oh, no – that’s the end of the report. Brings us to now.”

“Okay, then.” Knuckles looked to Sonic. “You.”

“Me.” Sonic put his hands on his chest. “Me me me.”

“Your next job is to relay a message to these towns—” Knuckles tapped a few spots on the map before him “—tell them that we’re in urgent need of supplies. Explain that we’ve destroyed the wraiths, also. The old roads are safe again, now.”

“Yep, leave it to me. m'I starting now?”

“No. Wait.” Knuckles held up a hand. “That’s only gonna take you a day or two, but we’re plannin' the next few weeks. I want you present for this." Knuckles turned to Sally. "And you, I’ll make good on our deal. I'll tell you about our agent now.”

“Right. Thank you.”

“His name is Shadow the Hedgehog. Last I knew he’s still got the green Chaos Emerald. He’s stationed here, in Casino Forest.”

Sally recalled the grisly scene from Null Space. She swallowed. “I see.”

“You know him? Or—your copy of him, whatever.”

“Only very limited experience.”

“Well, he’s the most lethal agent we have, and I sent him with Amy Rose on a recruitment mission in one of the areas Eggman hit worst during the war. We don’t have any satellite network, so you have to actually get out there to call him back. You’ll have my authority. I’ll brief you on more details when we get closer to your, uh, departure.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

“So how 'bout me? What am I doin’ after playin’ postboy?”

Knuckles shrugged. “Whatever I need you for. Our mission is to build a defense force. You could be doing any number of things toward that goal.”

“Hmm – well, okay. Hang on.” Sonic put a hand on his chin. “We need two and two, right? Two Emeralds and two users. To get Sally and Mina and everyone home.”

“Yes. That’s what Blaze explained to me.”

“So I guess between the edgy hedgy and myself we hit our user quota. And, he’s got the green, so there’s that. But…” Sonic paused. “The red Emerald’s in use right now, you know?”

Knuckles shook his head.

“No, really. It’s gonna held up until we sort _him_ out, and stuff. So I'm thinking I—oh, hey! What’s the date?”

Knuckles twisted to look at a calendar on his desk. “October 16, 2000.”

“… okay, awesome. I—” Sonic blinked. “Huh. Guess I missed my birthday.”

Sally frowned.

Knuckles shrugged. “Well, happy birthday, Sonic. I’d throw you a belated party now, but I’m sorry to say we ran out of cake about six weeks ago. And, we’d have to light the candles with Burst Wispons. And—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture—anyway. I guess I'm glad I got up in time, 'cause I’ve been waiting on Halloween this year. That’s the start of the EX2 World Grand Prix! Halloween 2K!”

“EX2? Extreme Gear racing?” Knuckles squinted. “That’s back on Earth. What does that have to do with anything here? Oh, wait-”

“Well, yeah, they're offering a Chaos Emerald as the grand prize! Remember?”

"Ugh." Knuckles shut his eyes and rolled his neck. "Yes. I remember begging GUN on my _knees_ for them to lease it to us so we'd have another Emerald on our side, and all they ever sent back was some wet cardboard drivel about 'private property' and 'border control'. They really don't understand just how useful those things are to us. Oh, plus they had that idiotic truce with Eggman they wouldn't even tell us about, that Rouge had to dig up in their private comms." Knuckles wiped his face. "I'm getting angry remembering this."

"I swear I'm only bringin' it up 'cause it's the only other Emerald I know about."

"No, you're right... they've been needles in the haystack ever since those time shenanigans two years ago. And, that wasn't really a problem for a while, since it meant Eggman couldn't find 'em either. Then he got his hands on the Ruby." Knuckles gestured to Sally as he explained. "Shadow found the green one on his own time. Then, he practically had to scour every inch of the Mystic Jungle to get his hands on on the red. Those plus the purple one from the Grand Prix ads make up the only 3 of the 7 we have on record."

“Wait, did you say this race is ‘on Earth’?” Sally looked between them. “Is that... an alternate Zone here?”

“Naw, it’s a whole other planet, in a different dimension.”

“Then, how are you getting there? Don’t you need two Emeralds to cross dimensions? Isn’t that why we’re—”

“Oh, well normally, yeah. But, uh – lucky lucky us – there’s this human colony here, called Station Square, and it's got a huge magic portal underneath it.” Sonic stretched across the table map, pointing to the southeast coast. “It’s older than time. They actually built the city around it, I think. Knux? Fact check?”

Knuckles shook his head. “I’m not big on human history.”

“And this portal lets you cross dimensions?”

“Just to Earth and back, I think. Two worlds.” Sonic rocked back to his feet. “We can’t like, hijack it and use it to send everybody home, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. Plus, I think the humans would be… um, upset. If we did that.”

Sally sighed.

“Wait. So, back up a second.” Knuckles rubbed his face. “Let me get this straight. You want me to give you free license to bail to Earth in a middle of our refugee crisis, so you can race Extreme Gear for a prize we don't strictly need?”

“And for fortune n’ glory, baby!” Sonic wiggled a hang-loose sign. “But really, I’m serious. I think it'll help us. Whaddya think?”

“It’s never bad to have another Emerald on our side,” Sally added.

“On ‘our’ side,” Knuckles repeated, under his breath. He glanced to her. “That reminds me, I heard you’re ‘Princess’ Sally now? Y'ever plan on lettin’ me in on that?”

Sally recalled the noblewoman. “It… wasn't relevant until now.”

“Yeah, key words ‘until now.’ You think it’s relevant now that we got a city-sized population here answering to… _you_. And only you, apparently. What's that about?”

“Ugh. Come off it, Knuckles. If they’ll only take orders from me, my orders are to follow your orders. I’ve done nothing but help you since I got here, so give me an ounce of your trust.”

Sonic raised his eyebrows. “Me-ow.”

“Yeah. Well..." Knuckles tilted his head. "I do trust you. Even if you are shifty as all get-out, and in the weirdest ways – I heard that little computer on your waist has a mind of its own. Why not tell me that, either?”

Sally set her jaw.

“See, the thing is, I honestly don’t care. You know I already work with Omega, right? You think I’d flip my lid over another thinking machine? As long as it doesn’t hijack our network or turn us all into gray goop or something, the thing’s fine with me.”

“She’s a person. Not a thing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tails gave me a convincing pitch. Anyway, it’s a non-issue.” He scratched the back of his head. “You think I’d get pissed hearing something, whatever it is, _just tell me_. Waiting on it only makes it worse.” His tone eased up at the tail of his speech.

“I think you might have said that before… maybe a few times.”

“I believe it.”

“Hang on, we let him in the Knothole Gang too?” Sonic pointed. “This killjoy?”

“He’s only part-time.” Sally smiled wryly.

Knuckles rolled his eyes. A few beats passed.

“Anyway. Sonic, once we get life signs on our fix for this nightmare I call my front yard—” he gestured out his office window “—you can give the Grand Prix a shot.”

“Sweet.”

“Sally, you're not enlisted, but I'm guessing that's around when you'll head out, too.”

"Right. I'd like to see things settled here first, as well."

“Yeah.” Knuckles leaned back against his desk, grabbing a coffee mug with an impressive collar of brown reuse rings. “That’s everything, then. Dismissed.”

“‘Dismissed’?” Sonic balked. “What, you appoint yourself principal, too?”

“Just beat it, jackass.” Knuckles sipped his coffee and waved his free hand at the door.

\---

“So. Seems like ya fit right in around here.”

“Oh, yes. Knuckles _only_ questions every single decision I make.”

"Well, that's what 'fitting in' is around here. See, the two options with Knuckles are: get nitpicked to death, or get punched."

"Right, right. You're right."

Sonic and Sally had left the upper exit of Knuckles’ tower and circled the fortresses’ wall. In the courtyard below, a crowd had gathered to hear Mina sing. Sonic watched her strum at an old acoustic guitar. Even with its warped neck and stained wood, she found a way to keep its sound clear. He took a breath and looked back to Sally.

“So what’s your deal, anyhow?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah. Lil’ mongoose lady down there said you and I are 'close' in your world.”

Sally pursed her lips. “Hmm, is that what she said?”

“Yeah, so—okay, let’s back up. Test first.” Sonic raised a finger. “I gotta make sure you’re not bluffing.”

“About what? Knowing you?”

“Yeah. And we’re skippin’ the easy stuff, too. Everyone and their mother knows my favorite food and that I have a—pro... clivity? Is that a word? I think Blaze taught it to me.”

“Yes, it’s a word. It means ‘preference.’”

“Yeah, okay, great. So everyone knows I got a pro-clivity for going fast. So stuff like that won't count. And hobbies are out too, ‘cause apparently other-me plays the guitar over on your world, but yours truly hasn’t touched a six string in his life.”

“Oh? Have you tried?”

“Yup, and all I got out of the thing was this tragic death wail.”

“That could be cool. You liked Mina’s metal phase.”

“Uh-uh. Nope.” Sonic waved a hand. “Just, believe me… Oh, and no family facts, ‘cause I don’t have that here either. And my friends are different too, obviously, ‘cause I don’t know you. Those don't count.”

“So no trivia, hobbies, family, or friends.” Sally counted on her fingers. “Anything else out of play?”

“I think that’s it.”

“And now I just name facts about you until you’re satisfied?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Uh-huh. Okay, so… what’s even left, here? Distilled personality traits?”

“Yep. 150 proof plus. We're talkin' grain alcohol.”

“Let’s see… you like to have fun.”

“Pff—okay, so you met me, yeah. You gotta do better than that.”

“I’ve got to start somewhere!”

Sally dropped the count of four on her fingers and started again at her thumb. Sonic found himself mirroring her smile.

“You get hardheaded when you think something’s right or wrong—”

“Okay, ya been talkin’ to Knuckles…”

“— _But_ \- I wasn't finished - if someone told you to write out a _list_ of what you thought was right or wrong, you couldn’t. It’s all in the moment. All in your head. Or, heart.”

“Ooh,” Sonic recoiled a bit. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”

“Yeah. That one – has driven me a little crazy in the past.” Sally rubbed her nose. “But, I’ve just had to learn to trust you.”

“Smart move. Y’know, more people _should_ trust me.”

“More people _would_ if you didn’t get so… big-headed every time they told you they did.”

“Yeah, but c’mon, I’m real when it counts.”

“Yes. You are.” Sally put up another finger.

“Hey, that one’s not a fact. I gave it to ya, you just agreed.”

“How many am I counting to, anyway?”

“No upper limit. Just when I say stop. Like when a waiter gives ya toppings on a dog at a fancy restaurant.”

Sally held in a laugh. “You’re imagining they come to the table with a pot of chili and just pour it on until you say ‘stop’?”

“Exactly.”

“You have no clue how fancy restaurants work.”

“Perhaps.”

Sally nodded. “I’m counting that one.”

Sonic pointed. “Uh-uh-uh, that’s trivia.”

Sally looked up at him. “I think your proven inability to exist in high society counts for a little bit more than trivia. If only because it was _so_ pervasive and crippling every time I brought you to a royal ball. One time, you loaded hors d'oeuvres from the buffet table into a tablecloth and carried it out like it was a knapsack!”

“What're 'oh durves'?"

"Appetizers. Finger foods."

"... did I call it hors-to-go?"

"Yes!"

"Then I probably just did it for the pun."

"You did. They were spinach puffs, and you hate greens."

"Why ya takin’ me places I don’t belong, anyhow?”

“Well, I don’t belong there either, but I at least make some effort to fit in!”

“Oh, _you_ don’t belong at a royal ball. How’s that make any sense?”

Sally waved her hand. “Okay, this is about you, buster, not me.”

“Fine. The game’s over, anyway. You pass.”

“It’s a ‘game’ now?” Sally raised her eyebrows, feigning offense. “I thought this was a test. I thought it was serious business.”

“Test, game, they're all the same.”

“Right. Because everything’s a challenge, and the world is your racecourse.” She put up another finger.

“I said it was over!”

“This isn’t part of the game, it’s just me roasting you, you crazy adrenaline junkie. Racing Extreme Gear for an Emerald? That’s your contribution to this cause?” She gestured to the camp below them.

“Oh, you know about EG? You have it on your planet?”

“Yes. And I can’t think of a time it hasn’t injured virtually everyone involved.”

“Yeeeaaah, that’s the stuff, baby!” Sonic gave an ok sign, then smoothly transitioned to a pleading shrug. “Augh, but c’mon. Can you blame me? Look at this place. I’ve been back alla 6 hours, Knuckles is givin’ me orders, there’s a crazy fake Amy prowlin’ around givin’ me weird looks, the whole place is dry and dead and sad…”

“And these people need you.”

“Yeah. And I’m gonna help, I swear. But _after_ I do—” Sonic gestured with both hands “—I gotta spice things up. I get stir crazy sleepin’ under one roof for more than a few days. Few d-few hours. Few minutes.”

“Mm-hm.” Sally turned to lean on the inside parapet of the castle wall and looked out over the courtyard. Her smile faded.

Sonic walked forward to stand beside her. “What’s up? I kill the vibe?”

“No.” She propped her head on her hand. “It’s just that… I’m worried about these people, Sonic. And I’m worried about the other problem – the one we’re not seeing.”

“What’s that?”

“Mobius. There are a lot of dangerous men on that planet, and right now I'm not there to stop them. And, if any of them have been brought _here_ , you might not have the tools to fight them.”

Sonic thought quietly a moment, then shook his head. “Eh, I wouldn’t get worked up over it.”

“Mmm.”

“I mean it! Look—Eggman’s toast, we got Infinite on lockdown. Things are lookin’ up, okay?” Sonic waved a hand over the courtyard. Refugees were mingling over fires, sharing drinks, laughing, singing with Mina.

Across from them, the sun was sinking into the horizon, coloring the sky a brilliant shimmering purple. The smell of smoke carried up to them.

“I can’t see any dimensions from here, you know? All I’m seeing is people workin’ through a tough time together. And we’ll get through it, together. We always do. You got my promise, Sal.”

Sally smiled, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Heheh."

“You can believe me, right?”

“Of course I can.” Sally looked over at his huge, cloudless green eyes shining out of his rugged, matted, wild blue and tan face. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this chapter, Part 1 - Hunting the Hero - comes to an end.
> 
> I've done a decent amount of work on Part 2 at this point, but I only have 3 chapters written, and I don't like the stress of just being only 0 or 1 chapters ahead of my uploading. I'll often realize I needed to put something in at an earlier point and go back to add it; I think some chapters in the prologue may have suffered a bit because I was working upload to upload.
> 
> I will be putting this fanfiction on pause for now, and ideally updating its title card to be a bit more accurate to how I'd like it. This pause will last anywhere from 1 week to 5 months, but leaning more towards the 1 week side, given how much fun I'm having writing Part 2.
> 
> In the meantime - and I know I always ask for this - I would really encourage you to put your thoughts into the comments. Though I do have the story plotted out already, I'd like this to be a dynamic piece open to reader contribution. What would you like to see more of? Less of? Anything I was missing? Let me know. All the best, and thank you for reading.
> 
> \--
> 
> On hiatus until next upload.
> 
> Comment your opinions, impressions, or questions below.


	28. Departure (Part 2 - The Quest for Chaos)

#  Part 2: The Quest for Chaos

##  28 – Departure

Early morning sunlight and the smell of breakfast. Sally and Sonic walked the dirt path that ran from the Resistance HQ bridge through the center of the refugee camp. Around them, people huddled around small fires as they cooked their eggs.

“All right…” Tails’ voice came in across both of their communicators. “Sonic, you got your updated gear?”

Sonic glanced down at his Extreme Gear boots, tapping one against the other. He pinched the green sunglasses on his forehead and lowered them to sit on his nose – a basic HUD brought up still images of Tails, Sally, Nicole, and Knuckles. “Yup, I’m all set here.”

“Sally?”

“I copy. All set.”

“Okay… so, um, some bad news? We don’t have anywhere near a good enough network, satellite or cell, for real-time calls. Um, but Sonic, the humans _do_ have a network, and a relay through the gate from Monopole to Station Square – so with Nicole’s help, I programmed your glasses to be able to send and receive prerecorded messages from HQ while you’re on Earth. They’ll just take a while to get here and back. Like letters.”

“Sweet. Well, thanks, Nicole.”

“It was nothing!”

“So if that’s the bad news, here’s the worse news. Sally, there is no cell or radio support in Casino Forest Zone. The moment you’re out of range of this fortress, you’ll go dark until you get back. In your time out there, you’ve got to be _extremely_ careful. Like I told you, it was one of the places Eggman hit worst during the war.”

“Got it.”

“Uh, but Knux. He’s toast now, remember? Plus, we blew up all his bases out there.”

“Yeah. If you can believe it, I’m not warning Sally about a dead man and his ghosts. Eggman and his remnant forces aren’t the problem.” Knuckles cleared his throat. “What _is_ the problem is that all the reports Amy have sent back describe the place as being riddled with crime. South Mystic never had much in the way of a government, and that wasn’t a problem when the population was just the local tribes. But after Eggman tore down all that beautiful rainforest of theirs and changed it out for bars and pachinko machines, a whole crowd of bottomfeeders swept through looking for nothing but trouble. You’re gonna see hitmen, bounty hunters, smugglers, assassins, you name it. So keep on edge if you know what’s good for you.”

“Understood.” Sally scanned the refugee camp, performing some final checks on its state of operation. The first trade caravans had come through yesterday – as such, much of the camp was now silent and sick from last night’s revelry. “Anything else either of us should know?”

“I preloaded your GPS with some points of interest, including any impact craters I’ve detected. The frequency has been pretty consistent, before and after you got here, but… so far, the ratio of confirmed refugee sightings to detected craters is just 1 to 100. Um, not counting the refugees from the Death Egg. It's like most of them, are... um... blanks?”

Sally grimaced. “I’m getting worried.”

“Wish there was more we could tell you – honest, I do – but our intel division was virtually just the Chaotix, and they walked out on us a few months ago.”

“Tried callin’ ‘em back?” Sonic picked at something in his teeth, extracting a nondescript crumb of former food.

“What do you think, genius?”

“Well, I thought you said Vector left the door open.” Sonic flicked the crumb away. Sally watch it fly into the grass, with mild dismay.

Knuckles snorted. “Yeah, guess he closed it again, ‘cause I only get voicemail. I’ve tried every week since last month. Just get the same twenty second clip of Charmy screaming something about being out on a job.”

“I mean, what were you hopin’ for, a secretary?” Sonic held a hand up to no one, gesturing through the conversation. Sally marveled at how he seemed to act as though there simultaneously were and weren't an audience before him. “Vector’s top topic of conversation is how he doesn’t get paid. How’s he gonna bring on an employee?”

“I thought Charmy and Espio were employees of his," Sally said, managing to peel her eyes away. "Is that not the same here?”

“On paper, maybe. I think Espio swore off all material possessions anyway, and Charmy… probably doesn’t even know what money _is_. Beyond ‘green rectangles.’ God… I’m swatting that squeaky little bee out of the air the next time I lay eyes on him.”

Sonic coughed. “Assault and battery? In front of detectives? That’s a bold move.”

“Eh, I don’t mean it,” Knuckles muttered. “Kid’s harmless. Just wish he’d learn how to shut up for a few minutes.”

“Oh, also,” Sonic paused to rub his eyes under his sunglasses, laughing quietly. “I still can’t believe you guys sent _Amy_ to _Casino Forest_. Holy Toledo. Of all our staff, of all places.”

Sally quirked an eyebrow. “What’s the issue?”

“I just think if there’s anything Amy complains about more than me, it’s the Mystic Ruins. _‘Ugh, it’s so humid, my shoes are wet, my arms are sticky!’_ ” Sonic wheezed into a full-blown laugh.

“Yeah, well, this is an army,” Knuckles growled. “I’m not catering deployment to my soldiers' personal comfort. I outrank her. She’ll go where I say she will, and she’ll do what I tell her to.”

“Ohohoh,” Sonic’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s the way you pitched it to her, bigshot. You sound macho now. Bet it was more like, _‘Uhh, Amy, uh, please don’t flatten my face, and remove all my teeth, but we need you in this spot, because I’m out of ideas. Help.’_ ”

Tails’ mic picked up some poorly stifled laughter. Sally rolled her eyes.

“Would you just shut up?”

“World’s first order given at hammerpoint.”

“You really think you’re hilarious, blueboy. How about I deploy you to the bottom of the ocean for fair service? I’ll even ‘upgrade’ you with some cement shoes.” Knuckles audibly leaned closer to his microphone. “So you better run as fast as you can _, ‘cause I’m gonna rip—”_

“Okay, okay! Easy, boy, easy! Sheesh.” Sonic stuck his tongue out at Sally. “Almost ten years, and you still can’t take a joke… Alright. Sonic out. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, you guys. Be safe.”

“Don’t die. Or I’ll find you, and kill you.”

“Thanks, you two. See you soon.” Sally clicked off the call. Sonic did the same.

Sonic clapped and turned to Sally. “Okay. Well, guess this is it.”

“Seems so.”

“So I’m headed that way, and you’re headed… mostly the same way, but slower.”

“Sounds about right for us.”

“Then I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

With a fleeting ‘ok’ hand sign, Sonic turned to jog away. As he built speed, a rush of air followed him – Sally watched as he blurred to a stream of light, bounced over the nearest hills, and finally vanish from sight, all in twenty seconds’ time.

She tapped her eyepiece. “Nicole, could you call over my—”

Something bumped the back of her calf. She turned to see that her silver bike had arrived, its motor purring near-silently. “Your ride, Princess.”

Sally smiled, vaulting over the handlebars to her seat. “Now Nicole,” she said, chidingly, “remember what I told you about calling me ‘Princess’ when we travel new places here? Only tell who we can trust. Especially given where we’re going… I don’t need to get held hostage on a scouting mission.”

“Yes, Sally. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay.” Sally pulled up the kickstand and leaned forward. “Let’s get moving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back!
> 
> Just kidding, I'm still _mostly_ on hiatus for the moment. I've still got a big project in the works, and all my creative free time has got to go to that, so don't expect to see me consistently until that's over in two or so months.
> 
> I just thought I'd seize the coronavirus opportunity and upload while there are some eyes on the site. This is a short chapter, but I've got the next two chapters already written and they're of more considerable length, so you can at least expect those in the next week. Probably one more after that. But then back to hiatus!
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy the gang on a Skype call. It's the last they'll have for a while... Everyone is headed their separate ways to collect some Chaos Emeralds for the new initiative. See last chapter if you're new and you thirst for any context beyond that.
> 
> Lore note: Knuckles is described in one of his introductory manuals as loving the wilderness. I don't think very many things irritate him more than deforestation...
> 
> \--
> 
> No consistent upload schedule at the moment, but probably next Tuesday or Wednesday.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	29. On Your Mark

##  29 – On Your Mark

_Station Square’s about a thousand miles away, yeah? So, should take me… a few hours, if I take it easy._

Sonic streaked across the familiar landscape of Green Hill Zone. It was refreshing to get back to the real stuff – that is, the real stuff that wasn’t buried in sand. The checkerboard grass and cliffs, the little animals on the way. The clouds raced by overhead.

 _Six months, huh?_ As much as he wanted his mind on the tournament, that figure kept coming back to him. It wasn’t a small amount of time to lose – and on top of his prison stay beforehand, that meant he’d been out of the loop nearly a year. So as he felt the billowing air sting the insides of his chest, and the rhythmic thud of his shoes send shockwaves up his shins and thighs, he savored the pain as something fresh – a proof that he was free.

About an hour must have slipped by with him not thinking of much because he found himself passing through Sunset Hill Zone, an early halfway point between Beryllia City and Station Square. It wasn’t sunset anywhere else, naturally – Sonic glanced up at his sunglasses’ display to check the time of 11:04 AM, October 30 – but the atmosphere around this region of Green Hill had the unique effect of making the sky constantly orange. _What’d Tails say? Something to do with the lake nearby, and something about there being some crap up in the “O zone” or something, Idunno. Looks pretty, though._

Just past Sunset Hill was Never Lake, the sometime receptacle of Little Planet, when its orbit brought it close enough to Beryllia. Looking out over the shimmering water, Sonic thought on when was it due to come back. _March every year, right?_ He thought a moment. _Yeah, that sounds right._ He frowned. Two years ago, they hadn’t properly undone that awful, ugly shell Eggman built around the planetoid: the Death Egg Mark IV. Maybe that would be his next project… a few months from now.

After another hour and a half of semi-meditative thought, Sonic glimpsed a pack of GUN helicopters circling in the sky. _Yep, I’m just about there,_ he thought. _The new President sure doesn’t like our kind much, huh? GUN just kept to themselves in the war. Heard she and Eggman worked out some deal and she said it was none of ‘their business.’_ He frowned. _I miss the old Pres. He prolly woulda sent some form of help our way, at least._

The familiar skyline of Station Square came up not long after that. He slowed his pace and hopped in with the inbound traffic on the highway into of the city. Swerving around the grounded cars on his way in, the skyways of the inner city came into eyeshot. _Glad the city restoration wasn’t just part of the dream,_ he thought. _They’ve really come far in the 7 years since Chaos..._

Things started to get a little more jammed once he drew closer to the heart of the city. He hopped onto the sidewalk and slipped past the humans – _let’s hope no one recognizes me_. Of course, when he inevitably stopped to catch his breath in front of Central Station...

                        “Oh my god, it’s Sonic!”

            “Hey, you’re Sonic the Hedgehog, right! Can I get an autograph!”

                                    “Hey, Sonic! How about a picture!”

Sonic quickly zipped into the station, following signs to the TRANS-DIMENSIONAL RAIL. He swerved through some propped double doors and ground a stairwell handrail to the lower level. The atmosphere there was darker and quieter: all the humans and Beryllians in their lines were too focused on their passports and ID to notice him in the back, surveying the place.

Light from blue LED lamps overhead illuminated rows of travelers waiting for automated turnstiles to let them in toward a central canal, styled after a subway – only, rather than two tracks and two cars, one inbound, one outbound – there were 6 tracks and 6 cars. Three inbound, three outbound, each attached to the side of a hexagonal tunnel.

Steel scaffolding would take the passengers on Sonic’s side up or down a level to whichever railcar was boarding. On the other side, Beryllians and humans filtered out as soon as their cars came to a stop.

Sonic slipped in with one of the lines, crouching to dig around inside his left boot and grab his UF passport. He flipped it open to his glossy profile page and grinned. _Quite a looker!_ When he came to the turnstile itself, a glowing panel awaited. He pressed his face down and gave a dashing smile for the camera, which quickly verified him and cleared him to pass through. He pressed the steel bar forward, which admitted him with a _ker-clunk_ , and he arrived at the waiting platform.

Crouching to tuck his passport back in, he glanced to the left – nothing, just a concrete wall and some bumpers. Some GUN troops leered at him from security offices. Then he turned to the right, where the brief tunnel terminated in a rippling sheet of brilliant blue plasma. The Gate. At the terminus, all around the edges of the hexagonal tunnel was the original, ancient craftsmanship of the Gate: huge runes, pulsing with blue energy, carved into the midnight black stone.

Human technology had mixed with the ancient, now, with steel plates drilled in over emergent cracks and a staggeringly large coil of cables – six or seven Sonics wide – suspended through the center of the gateway. Sonic supposed that was the “relay” Tails had mentioned.

The middle of the three railcars was boarding, so Sonic stepped in, along with a small crowd. To his pleasant surprise, no one seemed to identify him – or at least, weren’t confident enough in identifying him to come forward with requests for selfies or autographs. _Guess everyone looks a little blue-ish under these lights._ He did think he heard a few murmurs, though.

After another minute, the railcar had reached capacity and a conductor flagged the control center at the end of the line. The doors slid shut with a _hiss_ , and the car lurched off of its magnetic restraint, rumbling toward the gate. Just a few seconds later, the wall of blue plasma passed through them – Sonic felt the familiar sensation of tingling across all of his skin, and shuddered. The rest of the passengers did the same, and they shared a murmuring, quiet laugh.

Very quickly the brightness in the railcar increased, and they emerged from the ground, suspended on an overhead rail that brought them up and around the enormous central tower of Megalo Station. Sonic leaned toward the glass of the doors, looking out over the electric gold and silver city as they spun along the wide, revolving helix of the rail.

“Welcome to Monopole,” a woman’s voice said over the intercom.

The sprawling glass skyways and electric mag-roads the city was famous for unfurled around them. Sonic grinned. _These humans sure know how to put on a show._

“Thank you for taking the trans-dimensional line. This is Megalo Station, Monopole, United Federation. For connecting lines to Central City, please follow the gray arrow! For sky taxicabs to the airport, please follow the blue arrow!”

The rail brought the car around another revolution before dropping them on one of the upper levels. Sonic stepped out to a nearly empty terminal, where there were several rows of red velvet seats, huge windows, and the occasional flat screen television putting out a captioned news feed. He walked over to one of the monitors.

“… let’s go to Tracy Wingham for a full report.”

“That’s right, Bill. I’m here at the starting lines for the EX2 World Grand Prix, generously hosted by HEXAeco industries. There’s certainly an atmosphere of excitement and tension out here as the race is due to start it just one hour!”

Sonic blinked. _… did I hear that right?_ He looked around at the empty terminal. _Did… wait…_ He glanced up at his glasses, which now displayed a time and date of 7:29 AM… October 31.

“Oh, shoot!” he shouted, smacking his head. _Earth is always a day ahead, how’d I forget?!_ He shifted from foot to foot. “Uh… uh… the board. Get the board.”

He raced to the elevator hall, mashing the closest button. Looking up, he read the display: he was on floor 314, with the nearest carriage on floor 220. _Yeah, that’s not gonna work. These things take forever to get here, and I still have a two hour round trip to the storage locker!_

He doubled back to the terminal and blasted through the doors to the stairwell. He leaned over the edge to see… _yep. A few hundred flights of stairs_. He rubbed his forehead. Even grinding the handrail, it would take him forever. He looked over his shoulder as the stairwell doors relaxed shut again, and across the platform, through the glass, he glimpsed his answer.

The helix rail.

He lunged through the doors before they closed and sprinted back to where the trans-dimensional railcar had let him off. A double-walled glass tube and steel apertures secured the entryway. Sonic looked to the broad walls of glass separating him and the raw sky. He pulled an uncertain breath through his teeth. _Guess there’s always the direct route…_ He rubbed his mouth and looked around.

 _Well, maybe with the winnings I can pay back the damage, or something. Yeah._ He nodded. _Or… I guess I can just outrun the cops._

He took a few steps back, pressing his heels up against a public trashcan as an impromptu starting block. He crouched and centered himself, looking through the 10 by 10 glass pane between him and the rail line. He had to line his one shot up now. He rolled his neck.

He whipped forward into a spindash, steadily building speed, until he was grinding the ceramic tile beneath him into fine powder. One second passed. Two… three…

And he released it, flying forward, shattering the glass on impact. As soon as he did, he spread his limbs wide to catch the air. There was the rail, he flipped, put his footstoles forward and—

He missed it. Whirling head over heels in the violent air currents, he looked back up at it as it soared away. _Uh, that’s no good._

He flipped over, flexing his oblique muscles to keep his arms and legs spread out against the wind. _Okay, uhh, time for Plan B._ _The rail goes around more than once, so I just gotta catch the next one._ Old memories of grinding transit rails on the ARK fizzled through his mind.

He spotted it: at about the 150th floor, the rail lined up beneath him. He carefully tilted his body. He’d need to hit it at its steepest point so as not to get split in half. After just a few seconds, he was closing in on it. He braced his legs, angled his shoes, and— _Got it!_ He touched down, sparks flying up around his ankles. A surge of triumph passed through him.

“Hahaha!” He looked up. “Uh oh.”

Immediately he pressed down, jumping to flip over the suspension cable of an incoming railcar. Touching down again, he waved his arms frantically to regain balance. When he eventually managed it, he tapped his sunglasses.

“Send a message to Tails!”

The glasses flashed text. RECORDING.

“Tails! Hey, I’m grinding the trans-dimensional line outside Megalo right now headed for the storage locker! I realized I was off on the competition date! It’s actually- HOLY—”

Another railcar flew towards him at blistering speed – he narrowly managed to jump in time to clear its cables. Landing again, he crouched to lower his center of balance.

“Okay, this is really stupid and dangerous! Anyway, I just thought I’d update you, and if I eat the big one, tell someone to nab the GoPro footage off my body! It’s gonna be sick! I—”

“Hello… Sonic.”

“Huh? Tails?” Sonic blinked. The glasses now displayed the text CONNECTED, and a silhouetted avatar labeled UNKNOWN. “Wait, you're not Tails. Who is this? Sh-whoa!”

As the rail grew closer to the base of the station, it had suddenly tangled with several others about 30 floors above ground level. The fully-automated railcars whirred past Sonic’s head – some as close as a few feet.

“Okay, this mighta been a really, really terrible idea! I—aaaAA!”

A railcar was headed straight for him out of the station, centering him in its blazing white headlights. Screaming, Sonic pulled in his arms and shut one eye, preparing to lose a significant number of rings – when a reverberant tremor suddenly rushed through his shins. He reopened his eyes to find the railcar gone – he looked behind him. He’d been… redirected? It looked as though the rail he’d been traveling had switched connections just in time.

“Sonic, look out!”

He turned around again. Another car, not ten yards away. He braced for the imminent impact when the rail beneath him suddenly steepened, dropping him just low enough to miss.

“Nyahahaha! That was close!”

“Are you laughing?!” Sonic shouted. “That’s like the fifth time I’ve almost got pancaked!”

“ _Almost_ is the key word!” the voice responded. It was a girl’s voice… vaguely familiar. “It’s all part of the act, alright? I’ll keep you safe, so don’t you worry that pretty face! In fact, strike a pose! It’ll look better on camera!”

Sonic found himself grinding along about a hundred feet above the city’s roads, now. Hopping between three parallel rails to dodge the incoming cars, he winced at the stitches in his sides. _Am I this out of shape?_

“Yes, that’s it! Hey, do another flip!”

“What… are you _talking_ about?” Sonic managed, as he strained to keep upright. His glasses flickered, and when he reached a stretch of rail where he couldn’t see any immediate danger, he glanced up to see that a fast-moving, blurry video was playing on the insides of his lenses. Blue on gray, with a bright red news channel banner scrolling white text by at the bottom. He squinted. “Is that… me?!”

“I thought I’d steal your idea! How’s this for GoPro footage, huh?”

He lifted a hand, and the Sonic on tape did the same. “Wh--Is this live?!” He twisted to look up behind him and spotted a camera drone keeping pace a few dozen yards behind.

“No, don’t look into the camera! It ruins the illusion— Hey! Look out!”

Sonic turned back in time to dodge another car. He turned to watch it as it raced away. “Are you controlling these things?!”

“Uh, duh. Of course I am! I _own_ this city, silly!”

Sonic shook his head. “Okay, crazy lady, I’ve got some questions!”

“Oooh, ask away! I love being interviewed. I'm my favorite subject!”

“That's great. So speaking of, who are you? How’d you get my number?!”

“Jeez, Mr. Journalist, these questions are awful! Did you do any research at _all_?”

“Look, I’m still in training. Humor a guy, would you?”

“How about this – if you can’t figure things out yourself by the time we meet, I’ll give you your answers in person. Free of charge!”

“Uh, we’re meeting? Since when?”

“Well, you’re headed to the HEXAeco Tower now, aren’t you?”

“What? No! I’ve got to get to my storage locker to pick up my board for the Grand Prix! Why would I be going to HEXAeco?”

“Because that’s where you register for the race, dummy!”

“… maybe I pre-registered!”

“Oh yeah? I’ve got the registration list in front of me, and you’re not on it~.”

“Yeah, well—wait, which way am I—” Sonic twisted, judging the distance and angle of Megalo Station. He groaned. “This is the wrong side of the city from the storage locker! I’m so boned, dude…”

“Shut up about your storage locker! I’m gonna give you a new board, okay? A better one! _And_ I’ll give you new boots, because I don’t think there’s much plating left in those babies… unless they’re made out of diamond or Borazon.”

Sonic glanced at his boots, grimacing. She was right – there wasn’t much left down there. These weren’t his Tails-customized Soap shoes, these were just EG boots with magnetized contact plates. It was actually impressive they’d held out this long.

“Anyway… I’ll be seeing you soon. So do me a favor and don’t get that _verrry_ marketable face of yours smushed on the way, okay?”

“Hey, wait!”

The shrouded avatar icon vanished from his HUD. “Great.” Refocusing, Sonic flipped right, left, right to dodge a few cars in sequence. _This is awful. I’m like, just high enough that falling off is gonna hurt, and there’s no other way down. I’m guessing mystery lady rigged that on purpose, too._ After the rails whipped a corner, he looked up – a broad, green, hexagonal skyscraper with white lettering HEXAeco awaited a few blocks down.

 _Well…_ he thought, sighing. _Guess I’m out of options, huh?_

\---

A few minutes later, Sonic entered the high-ceilinged lobby of the HEXAeco tower. Huge walls of gold mosaic tile shimmered with water and warm LED backlighting. Glassy modern furniture of impossible angles populated a waiting area. Suspended from the ceiling were razor-thin television screens, each displaying different news channels. One or two appeared to be running footage on his escape from Megalo Station, but all others showed the Grand Prix starting line. Hundreds of bodies were swarming the booths and streets. Sonic grimaced. _Better hurry._

“Can I help you, sir?”

Sonic spun around. Across the room, a young lady cat in a lacy black and red dress was standing behind a marble countertop. A gold plate at her hands read: RECEPTION.

Sonic walked over, jabbing an accusatory finger. “Hey, you the lady from the phone?”

The receptionist recoiled slightly. “P-Pardon, sir? Have you called us?”

As he drew closer, Sonic looked beside her to see several other countertops like her own, all empty. He then turned and resurveyed the lobby: no one was here, besides the two of them. His arm slowly fell to his side. He swallowed. “Hey, I’m not still dreaming, am I?”

“… I beg your pardon? Sir?”

“Um…” Sonic scratched at his ear. “Forget it. I’m here to register for the Prix.”

The receptionist frowned. “I’m very sorry to tell you this, sir, but the deadline for registration was nearly 24 hours ago.” She pointed to one of the televisions overhead. “As you can see, the race has nearly begun. We can’t accept any more entrants at this time.”

Sonic squinted. “Well… maybe there’s some room for… an exception?” He flicked his thumb, drawing a clip of ten rings from his glove. He set it on the table. “Huh? … Huh?”

The receptionist pursed her lips, watching as Sonic slowly slid the rings across. “Sir… you’re aware that rings aren’t legal tender in Monopole?”

“You could hit a ATM,” Sonic said, pointing to her. _Automaton… auto… meh, I forget._

“Sir… I’m afraid I can’t accept this offer. Even if I wanted to, our computers have closed the database.” She gestured to a monitor beside her. “I—”

“Janice!”

The receptionist leapt at least a foot off the ground as a woman’s voice burst out of the computer. Sonic recognized it as the same one from the call earlier.

“Y—yes, Miss Boss!”

“Have you gotten Sonic registered yet?!”

“Uh—I!” The receptionist frantically looked from Sonic to the monitor. “I didn’t know I was supposed to!”

“How could you not know? I just told you to five minutes ago! Didn’t I?”

“I—no, ma’am! We haven’t spoken since this morning!”

“Oh.” A beat passed. “You’re right, that’s on me. I thought I called you, but it must have— Ngh!” A _thud_ came through the speaker. “—must have slipped my mind.”

Sonic lifted a finger. “What was—”

“Just send him up, okay Janice? And in the meantime, would you hurry up and register the man already? I gave you perms to edit the roster, so do it—Hya!” Another _thud._

“Yes, Miss Boss. Right away.” The receptionist clicked off the call. Looking to Sonic, she lifted a wooden section of the counter behind her and circled out. “It’s right this way, okay?” She indicated a doorway beside the reception. Sonic leaned to see a long hallway terminating in a set of double doors. “The elevator’s at the end, dead ahead. Hit P – for penthouse.”

“Gotcha. Thanks, uh… Janice.”

Sonic jogged to the end of the hall, where the doors rolled open before he could even hit call button. He stepped inside and hit P, as instructed. As forty floors flew past, he took the time to reexamine the soles of his boots. _Yep… really did a number on 'em._ The plating was almost totally worn away – they probably wouldn’t even hold fast to an EG board like this. “Shoot.”

When the elevator slowed to a halt and its doors again rolled open, Sonic saw a desk waiting before a floor-to-ceiling window. He stepped out, and immediately his shoe sunk into something… soft. He looked down: a plush white carpet floor. _In an office? In this building?_

He looked around – the floor wasn’t the only bizarre design choice. The entire room was covered in white carpet and decorated with handmade wooden furniture; a far cry from the sleek, modern lobby interior. The view, the desk, and the thin glass screens were actually the only thing that looked as expected. As he treaded carefully into the enormous bizarro office, he realized it was the shape of a triangle – one equilateral wedge of the building’s hexagonal floor geometry.

He then picked up on muffled sounds of grunting and thudding; turning towards the pair of broad wooden doors on his right, he saw they were slightly ajar. Glimpsing another room through them, he walked over and pushed the left one open.

The next room over was a triangle, as well – rather than a white carpet, however, its floor was a chalky tan stone. At its center sat a fully-rigged boxing ring – and at the center of that boxing ring a sandbag was thrashing wildly around. The thuds must have been the sound of impacts, but… _who’s hitting the thing?_ Sonic squinted.

Some sort of yellow blur was rushing around the sandbag. The sounds the thing was letting off crescendoed in speed and intensity until, with a last great _smack_ , it broke from its chains and flew over the ropes of the boxing ring, bursting open on the ground beside Sonic.

The blur came to a halt. Left standing in the ring, breathing heavily, was a golden-furred cat woman in red shorts and a tank top. She steadily lowered her fists from her fighting stance. “Oh hey,” she said. She cleared her throat, looking over the destroyed sandbag. “Guess I got too into it, huh?”

Sonic looked between the bag and her and the bag, and held up his hands. “Can somebody _please_ tell me what’s goin’ on here, already?”

Unwinding the tape on her hands, the cat rolled her eyes. “For someone so fast, you really are slow, aren’t you?” She vaulted over the ropes. “It’s me, you doofus. Honey. Honey the Cat!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as a heads-up, I was totally finished writing up this chapter and these notes when Ao3 lagged out and I lost an hour's worth of progress. Of course it's my own fault - I'm normally immensely attentive with backups and save states, so much so that I was once ridiculed for legitimately having a folder on my computer titled "Spare Backups." My hubris got the better of me and I figured I could upload everything in one shot. So if things look clunky at some point in this chapter or reflection, or if I forget something, that's why.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter marks the introduction of Honey the Cat, one of my absolute favorite characters to write. I'm employing my artistic license and taking her appearance in the 2012 re-release of StF as her being officially in games canon. You'll learn more about her story next chapter, and in the coming chapters.
> 
> Let me know if her color is too bright, by the way. I played around with the yellows a bit to see which would be the least inoffensive to the eyes.
> 
> As a heads-up, I only have Chapter 30 written out ahead of time at this point. 31 is partly finished, and after that is just blank pages (though I obviously know what will go on them). So if uploads dry up again soon, remember I'm still technically legally on hiatus. Totally.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll be presenting Part 2 by alternating between Sally and Sonic's stories, or just running Sonic's story to its conclusion and then flipping back over. We'll see. Option 1 is more probable, at the moment.
> 
> Also, I've just about finished the preliminary outline for Book 7, completely out of sequence with all the others. You know, for the far far far far future. Maybe I'll outline Book 6 next, who knows.
> 
> And I think that's all I wrote? Well, back to self-quarantine. See you next week...
> 
> \--
> 
> No consistent upload schedule at the moment, but probably next Tuesday or Wednesday.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


	30. Get Set

## 30 – Get Set

“We met more than a few years ago, remember? When I helped your little fox friend set up the world tournament for the Chaos Emeralds.”

“Oh… yeah.”

Sonic recalled how, just a week after Espio notified them of the Death Egg II’s launch, Honey appeared from nowhere to assess Tails’ progress on the Lunar Fox. She told them she was on a _"spontaneous world tour"_ and that it was the only space shuttle she’d thus seen feasibly capable of outspeeding the Death Egg II defense systems. When Tails explained to her that it relied on the power of a Chaos Emerald, Honey told him to _"make it run on eight"_ and _"get it done in a week."_ She promised she would _"handle the pricy rocks"_ and then vanished with as little explanation as she'd come.

A few days later, practically every known corner of Beryllia was on fire with news of a ‘no-holds barred tournament’ for the Chaos Emeralds. Sonic grimaced, remembering how he barely survived matches against mercs like Bark and Fang. He wondered sometimes if it wouldn’t have been easier to just hunt the Emeralds down without Honey’s ‘help.’

“Right… I remember you now,” he said.

“See, I told you! We’re friends!” Honey started to cross the room as she stretched her arms. “I was just loosening up before my first show of the day. Guess I got a little distracted – sorry – so just give me ten seconds to get ready before we talk.”

“Uh, okay. Do you need me to turn around, or—”

“No, no.” Honey looked to the floor, carefully aligning her feet. “When I said ten seconds…” She lifted her hands, drew in a quick breath, and shut her eyes. A steel cylinder slammed down from the ceiling – Sonic started. There was a sound of surging water; then, rushing air; and then the steel cylinder retracted to the ceiling, and Honey was wearing a new black-and-red dress identical to the receptionist's downstairs. Her fur had also nearly doubled in volume. “… I meant ten seconds. Autoshower! My design.”

“Where did that thing… come from?” Sonic looked up to the ceiling.

“Don’t worry about it. The plumbing here is my design. It's murder to explain.” Honey smoothed down her fur, then squinted at him. “What were you here for, again?”

“You c—”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh, yeah. Follow me, okay?”

Sonic obliged as she led him to the next room over. This one had no natural light, as the others did – its walls were lined completely with television monitors, and gnarled black cables ran along the ceiling and floor. Honey effortlessly bounded between clear stretches of flooring while Sonic stumbled through in the near-dark.

About halfway through, he tripped and fell on his side. “Ow.”

Honey slowed and held up a hand. “Okay… it’s through here, but just wait a second.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Sonic muttered, picking himself up.

Honey’s golden eyes skit from monitor to monitor, her lips twisting, her nose and fingers twitching. She reached up and touched the side of her headband. “Cindy?”

From a speaker at the center of the room came a response: “Yes, Miss Boss?”

“Good job with the transit redirection earlier.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So tell me what I'm seeing on screen thirty-four. I like the camerawork.”

Sonic followed her gaze, distinguishing the monitor in question by a small yellow numeral in the bottom right corner of the display. It was some sort of cuisine montage, different colorful dishes rolling past with no news station ticker-tape or broadcast watermark.

“It’s a small-scale YouTube channel. 10 thousand subscribers. Username—”

“Yeah, whoever it is, contact them, tell them I wanna bring them on in advertising. If they’ve got something that catches my eye, it’ll catch others’.”

“Understood, Miss Boss.”

Honey took continued towards the other side of the room. Sonic followed, but stopped when she put up her hand again. “No, we can keep walking. I’m just making a short call, okay? I got reminded of something.”

Sonic shrugged as they resumed their walk.

She touched her headband. “Jillian? About my lunch with the governor today – you arranged for table 9 at Conelli’s, right? Like usual?” Honey opened the doors to the next room. “Okay, well I need you to change that. I just remembered he’s afraid of heights.”

They walked into a room that, by all impressions, Sonic might have described as ‘unfinished.’ Much of the drywall and steel infrastructure of the building was exposed, with two wide pegboard tool racks hanging on either wall.

“No, I still want the upper floor, but I want a table that’s more central – so he gets enough of the view, but not too much. You know?”

At the room’s center stood a mannequin wearing a dress reminiscent of Honey’s and the receptionist’s, but unfinished from the waist down. A handheld sewing machine rested below it.

“You can get that done for me? Thanks, Jillian. I appreciate it. Really, thanks a million. Bye bye.” Honey turned to Sonic, clapping her hands. “Where were we?”

“You tell me.”

Honey pointed to him. “I like that attitude.” She glanced at the dress in the center of the room. “Oh hey, check this out.” She nonchalantly reached over to a sawhorse propped on the wall and drew a revolver from of its lower deck. In a single motion she aimed it at the dress and fired. Sonic flinched.

The mannequin stand recoiled with the impact, then rocked back to an upright state – with the dress virtually undamaged. The crushed bullet lingered a moment on the surface of the threads, then peeled away and fell to the floor.

“Cool, right?” Honey grinned and tossed the revolver aside. “Silicon carbide discs, ceramic matrices, and some accompanying laminates. For the Tactical Sweet line.”

Sonic uncovered his ears. “Uh, yeah. That’s great. About that board?”

“Oh, yeah.” Honey walked to a spot in the steel lattice of the floor where a switch waited – she set her foot down as though to press it, then rocked back on her heel. “Wait.” She looked him up and down. “You are _the Sonic_ , right? The one that’s saved both planets a dozen times over? The ARK event, the Black Arms event?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” Sonic shrugged.

“Okay, good. I always say I never forget a face, but half the time that's a big fat lie. I figured the gauntlet outside was proof enough, but there’s no harm in being extra-certain with your investments~!” Honey leaned forward, clicking the switch.

 _‘The Gauntlet.’_ Sonic snorted. _Guess that settles it. Railcar frogger was karma for puttin' Mina through the wringer back in Emerald Coast. And well-deserved, at that._

There was a sound of pressurized air as something shot up from the ground. It spun in midair, then found purchase and held level with the ground.

“Ta-da! This is the prototype HEXAeco Extreme Gear board. Working title... some combination of letters and numbers. It's our first step into the industry, designed by _yourrrrrs_ truly.”

Sonic walked closer. It wasn’t an Extreme Gear board like any he’d ever seen: the surface was transparent, some sort of blue-green plasma surface suspended in a glass frame.

“It utilizes our patented magnetic reversion technology as a catalyst for the air transfusion already present in the industry’s leading designs.” Honey shielded one side of her mouth and in a mock whisper added, “I just ripped their style and made it better, like usual. It’s a secret to everybody, okay?”

“That science stuff is great, but am I really supposed to stand on this?” Sonic crouched to look at the board from beneath. “It looks like a big rectangular bubble wand. Without the wand part.”

“Okay, the aesthetics can be improved. It’s just a proof of concept as-is…” Honey tapped her face. “But yes, you stand on it; and no, it won't break. Give it a try.”

Sonic reached out, poking the suspension. Sure enough, it was as solid as anything - though it did seem to ripple on contact. He noticed now HEXAeco logo and name were even patterned into the plasma. To lift the board, he grabbed the glass frame – it was warm to the touch.

Honey had crouched beside him. She grabbed his ankle.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Measuring your foot. Hold still.”

“Why?”

“So I can get you your replacement boots, dingus!” Honey stood up with her fingers pinched on a tape measure. She eyed him. “I didn’t know Sonic the Hedgehog was coming to my race until about half an hour ago. I had the board, but to put it simply, I don’t got no _shoes_ for ya. I’m good, but I can’t predict the future. Mmm-size 12.”

Sonic looked at the board in his hand. The thick glass of the frame refracted green at first glance, but on closer inspection, there was a glowing red liquid coursing through them. “This looks… familiar.”

“… yeah Harry, size twelve. Have it at the starting line.” Honey took her hand off her headband and turned to him. “What?”

Sonic held up the board. “This design looks familiar. The red energy part especially. How come?”

Honey stared at him a moment with a furrowed brow, then opened her mouth. “Oh, you’re native Beryllian, right?”

“Yeah. Green Hill, born and self-raised.”

“You speak pretty good English for it.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Anyway, I bring it up ‘cause I co-opted some of this tech from Grand Metropolis. You know, the Urbana city? Have you been?”

Sonic shuddered. _Urbana._ Coating his voice with as much distaste as possible, he answered: “Uh, yeah. I’ve been. I thought Eggman ran that whole place, though. Like, HEXAeco included, actually?”

“Pff, don’t be dramatic!” Honey waved a hand. “He’s a lot less ‘involved’ in Urbana than you Southerners think. Whenever he wants to puppeteer a business there he _always_ makes the minimum vested interest for ownership – 51% – and then raids the place with his machines saying it’s ‘technically, _legally_ his property.’ And it is! Then, the next day, the board comes together and we dilute his equity with some non-participating preferred and wouldn’t you know it, we get to legally evict him.” She shrugged, walking toward the doors opposite the ones they used to enter. “You know, it happens so often a lot of boards have a ‘Robotnik provision’ for fast-tracked stock issuance specifically in that scenario. I think my Daddy invented that, actually…”

“Look...” Sonic started. He followed her through some type of exotic greenhouse room with a glass ceiling and stifling humid air. Strange colorful plant bulbs hung low over the walkway. “All I know is, whatever Illuminati-type government you guys have going on over there sells out to him on the regular, and that’s gross.”

“I don’t disagree. Why d’ya think I moved HQ to Earth? Lots more consumers here, and lots less threat of mad scientist hostile takeovers. Mostly the consumers, though. Which reminds me…” Honey turned and pointed to him. “You’ve got to take that board, get out there, and win my race in spectacular fashion!”

Sonic squinted, slowing to a halt in the middle of a bonsai forest. “Is that the catch?”

“Hm?” Honey tilted her head, looking him over. “There’s no catch. It’s a good board. It’s gonna knock everyone’s socks off, and then they’ll want to buy one – and _then_ I’ll lobby the UF to make it the first piece of Extreme Gear they let through Megalo Gate!” Honey jumped up and down. “Then, I’ll have the monopoly on Gear in Beryllia! Nyahaha!”

“Yeah, so you've got cash riding on this. Me too. What I'm asking is, is... I mean, you just said you want me to win, right?”

“Of course I do, you’re my champion!”

“Yeah, but you're also the host! So, out there on the rails, it seemed like you were controllin’ everything from the start. I just want to be sure this race is on the up-and-up. I don’t want any like… rubber banding, or anything. No tricks, no planting bombs in anyone else's gear. If I’m winnin’, I’m winnin’ fair.”

“Ugh, boo. You're so lame! You should do whatever it takes to win. That’s what Daddy always said.” Honey pouted. “But, fine. The competition will be totally, technically fair… _unless~_ you hit this little switch.”

Honey leaned over and pointed to the inside of the board. Sonic turned it over – sure enough, a small metal switch was embedded in the green-red glass frame.

“Well, what’s it do?” Sonic reached for it.

“DON’T!” Honey grabbed his wrist and moved it back. “Don’t… flick it now. I don’t know what’ll happen while it’s idling.”

“Well, what does it do?!”

“It disables the prototype’s preselected limits.” A devilish smile crept up Honey’s face. “In testing, I can technically say… that it’s the fastest Extreme Gear on record.”

Sonic reexamined the alien board in his hands. “ _The_ … fastest?”

“So you see? I was on your side from the start! Forget sabotage, I was even _nerfing_ you just to keep things fair! And, also... because overclocking the thing might also put too much strain on the transfusers and make you blow up in a big fiery ball of death. Since I haven’t really tested that part of it much.” Honey slapped his arm and walked out of the greenhouse. “So don’t get ahead of yourself, okay cutie?”

Sonic lingered a moment before following Honey to the next and final room. This one almost looked like someone had painted the place with Honey’s dress – intensely elaborate red and black cloth designs hung from the walls near the entrance, while closer to the window, the walls were populated with photo frames instead. An enormous bed, easily double the size of a king, waited there.

Sonic looked back to Honey in time to see her take her hand off her headband. “Okay, I just got word that the race is starting in thirty minutes!” She pointed to the inner corner of the triangular room, where an elevator – much narrower than the one in the office – waited. “Take my personal elevator to my private skyway. There’s an exit just a few blocks away from the starting line, and that should give you a chance to try the board out. I’ll see you there.”

“Okay, how do I—”

“No time left for questions!” She set a hand on his back, hurrying him to the elevator. The doors opened automatically, and she practically stuffed Sonic inside. “Good luck, break a leg, whatever!” She leaned in to key in his floor. “Oh, and one last thing,” she said, pulling herself back through the doors. “If you lose…” her face fell. “I’m taking my board back.”

The doors slammed shut, and the floor practically dropped out from under Sonic’s feet. His body started to rise as dozens of floors flew past the glass walls of the booth – then, drawing in toward the last few floors, gravity intensified rapidly. Sonic nearly fell to his knees from the pressure – then it eased back, and the doors slid open.

Sure enough, an empty skyway, starting at the building, waited. Sonic stood and walked forward onto a modest loading platform. He glanced up to see a labeled arrow indicating GARAGE. “Welp, it’s not that way,” he muttered.

He took a breath. He assumed Honey – or one of her legionnaires – would be controlling the roadways from here on. He dropped the prototype board and climbed on. The plasma sheet had just a little bit of give beneath his damaged boot soles. “Okay, that’s weird.” He looked up. “Gonna need a name for you, aren’t I, partner?”

 _Blue Star III? Nah, Tails didn’t make this one. Somethin’ ‘bout Honey? Or, more like, hexagons._ Sonic leaned forward – the board nearly flew out from under his feet with its starting acceleration. “Holy—okay.” He waved his arms to rebalance. “You really are the fastest Gear, huh?” He leaned forward again, hovering through the first stretch of the skyway. After a few dozen yards, he got a feel for the balance. It actually controlled quite well, for how staggeringly fast it could accelerate.

 _The Hexwrangler? No. The… the HEXAeco Spirit. No, it’s gotta be shorter, dude. You—_ He laughed. _Wait, I got it._

He leaned forward – the board hummed underfoot as it gained momentum. The city blurred around him as he screamed breathlessly into the empty tunnel, “The HEXAgogo!”

\---

“Nya!! Citizens of Monopole, the time has nearly come! In just fifteen minutes, we’ll be releasing the first wave of two hundred eager contestants in the qualifying round of the HEXAeco EX2 World Grand Prix! Give it up for your racers!”

Sonic jogged down a fire escape from the rooftop Honey’s skyway had let him out at. Thundering applause and Honey’s megaphone voice reverberated through the narrow alley. He leapt from the last stretch of the escape, breaking his fall by bouncing off of a dumpster.

“This qualifying round will start and end here, in the city; but after that, there’s no telling what wild and exotic world-famous locales our racers will explore in the following stages!”

He threw the HEXAgogo down and hopped on, speeding out onto the street. Rounding the corner, he inclined the board just enough to glide over ground traffic.

“We’ll be trimming our competition here from 200 to 50, then in the semi-finals we’ll cut that by another 40, leaving 10 finalists to compete for our grand prize of one… Chaos Emerald!”

Sonic glanced up at a jumbotron along the way. Honey occupied the entire screen, clutching in her palm the purple Chaos Emerald. She looked to be on some type of quick-assembly stage. _Is she… at the starting line?! How’d she get there before me?_

“All participants, please be advised that all terms and conditions of promotion, eligibility, privacy, entry, entry restrictions…”

Sonic passed through the final tunnel before the block his GPS was indicating. In the dark, cars roared underfoot, and cool damp air blew over his spines. He realized coming out of the Ruby’s pseudo-coma meant he’d be a little out of shape, but he still had this. As far as he was concerned, there was never a race he couldn’t win. _I… am speed._

He burst out into the light. The tremendous roar of a crowd shuddered through his ribs. Ahead, the streets were cordoned off with security tape and rows and rows of attendees awaited. Honey must have stopped her legal readings, because a hype anthem blared from elevated speakers on either side of him. Sonic cruised over the crowd to the starting line, passing another barrier to separate the racers from the attendees.

The asphalt was marked with numbers to indicate starting position. He tapped his glasses to open a message from HEXAeco – entry #000. _Cute._ It wasn’t hard to spot: a stretch of a few square feet, all the way on the left, behind the red ticker tape. Sonic dropped in, caught the HEXAgogo under his arm, and glanced at the time – 8:18 AM. _Not bad._

As soon as he landed, he was jostled from behind. He whirled around. “Hey, watch—”

A human with wide brown eyes and frayed hair towered over him, clutching a green plastic bag. He held it out to Sonic. “Your shoes, sir.”

“Uh, oh yeah, thanks.” Sonic took the bag and crouched, reaching into the plastic to pull them out. They were a tough, inflexible material, with HEXAeco logos and a hexagonal print design… the inside was dyed black, and the outside gold.

Sonic looked up at the man. “Didn’t have any in red?”

The man grimaced. “I had thirty minutes' notice. I took what was available, sir.”

Sonic sat on the pavement, pulling off his boots and throwing them in the bag, then pulling on the HEXAeco replacements. As soon as his feet hit the inner sole, their laces wound tighter. He stood and hopped in place, testing them. _Not… bad, per se._

“Sir?”

Sonic looked up. “Oh, yeah.” He set the bag in the man’s outstretched hand. “Tha—”

As soon as the bag had made contact, the attendant rushed away. _Uh… I probably should have asked where he was takin’ ‘em._ He frowned. _I liked those boots_.

            “Sonic!!”

                        “Hey, that’s Sonic the Hedgehog!”

“Go Sonic!!”

Sonic looked up: the floors of adjacent buildings seemed to have been converted to impromptu grandstands. People were leaning out of their windows, shouting down at the racers in the street – Sonic lifted an arm to wave as he turned fully around, then recognizing the stage Honey had been presenting from earlier. It was dramatically suspended overhead, between the two opposite buildings of the block, with some level of hovercraft technology visible on its underside. A swarm of camera drones circulated above it.

Sonic looked down to the racers themselves, and quickly realized that… they were, almost all of them, machines. He recognized most of them as SCR and E10000 models, each one plastered from head to toe in the décor of one corporate sponsor or another. The one nearest him had BUY FIG NEWTONS emblazoned on its purple-painted chest; a few rows back, he spotted one for the Home Depot.

He scratched his head. _Yeah, maybe humans are kinda weird._ He grinned. _Still, you gotta love ‘em for the hustle._

The reverberations in Sonic’s chest from the shouting and the anthem bass track blurred into the racing of his own heart. This was it, wasn’t it? _The_ World Grand Prix, the one he’d been dreaming of all those days he’d spent cooped up in his Death Egg prison cell. A shudder passed over him. _Here we go!_

A pointed voice, still miraculously distinguishable against the backdrop of noise, pierced through to Sonic’s ears. In a long, scraping drawl: “Well, well, well.”

_Oh, no. Come on._

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it…”

_Not THIS dude again…_

“Sonic the Hedgehog?”

Sonic sighed. “Here we go.” He spun on his heels. “Hey, Jet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that brings us to the end of the chapters I had pre-prepared. Sorry to leave you on a semi-cliffhanger (but come on, as if Jet's not gonna show up to an EG Race). We're back on hiatus for the time being. I've got the first chunk of 31 written but work is ramping up again so I'll have to keep this fic on the back burner.
> 
> Thank you to Gojira and other lurking readers for keeping up with this fanfic despite its irregularity re: scheduling. I hope you are all keeping healthy and safe.
> 
> Lore note: The Gate beneath Station Square is extremely ancient, and served as the first known stable bridge between Beryllia and Earth. Although humans were traditionally wary of venturing into the hostile environments of Beryllia, their presence over time caused a feedback loop of cultural exchange that resulted in much of South and West Beryllia speaking English (and other human languages in lesser proportion). Honey, who attended school on Earth, has a voice nearly indistinguishable from a human's. Sonic has a slight regional accent.
> 
> \--
> 
> On hiatus.
> 
> Comment your opinions below.


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